Will o' the wisp
by Yuki Suou
Summary: Entries for Houses Competition. It is an emotional rollercoaster. You've been warned. Cover by EaGLes41574.
1. Chapter 1

_**Summary:**_ _Harry was a kind being, truly, but there are some lines you do not cross. Like, making his friends cry._

* * *

 **Chapter 1**

Harry stared at the article shining as the cover news of The Daily Prophet.

" _Hermione Granger: A fraud?"_ The headline flashed mockingly.

It had been a long time since anyone of them got in the first page of the newspaper in a negative light. Harry was suddenly reminded of those years of dealing with Skeeter, the lies, the gossips, the _war-_

He took a deep breath as he scanned the article. Everyone around him had gone deathly quiet, he noticed absent-mindedly. The Burrow and quiet was never something that went together in the same sentence (unless there was a "not" present in between). The calm before the storm.

The article described how a Hermione was a fraudulent witch who had misused a variety of potions and obscure magic to enhance her intelligence (Harry snorted at that. It takes _intelligence_ to learn obscure magic, fools.) and how she hatched hare-brained schemes for protecting _creatures,_ and of course, how can someone of such a low birth could possibly be a leader of the Wonderful Wizarding World. It also mentioned repeatedly how she was riding the coattails of the fame of Boy-Who-Lived-

"I'll- I'll- what the bloody hell are they saying?" Ron was pissed. Harry watched, fascinated once again, as his best friend's face changed colour to match his hair. "We came out alive of the whole thing because of her!"

"You're telling me," said Harry, still scanning the paper.

Similar noises of protests rose all across the room. Shouts and threats flew around, accompanied by rattling of plates and cutlery. Even Percy made an affronted noise at the accusations.

But Harry shifted his focus to the person seated next to him. Hermione had gone completely white, her lips pressed in a thin line, her fists shaking. He was a bit alarmed at the slightly misty and burning intensity in her eyes. His hands closed around her fist.

"Hey, hey it's alright." Harry murmured. "We know those are all false, we-"

"Harry, you know it, they know it," Hermione gestured at the table. All the eyes were on her as she continued. "But, people? They don't. You know how it was during Hogwarts. Even Molly believed it that time!"

Molly's face fell.

"It's a smear campaign," said Percy. "We can sue them on account of defamation-"

"It will take too long." Arthur said, his voice grim. "The elections are nearing."

"I'm going to punch that reporter," snarled Ron.

"Not helping," came Ginny's snide answer.

As the table roared with arguments again, Harry took one look at the angry, lost expression on his friend's face and took a decision.

He cleared his throat. Loudly.

"I'll do it."

* * *

Cassius Zograf was delighted to find out that the great Harry Potter had agreed to give him an interview. A personal, never before interview regarding his whole fighting of Voldemort. To _him._ He knew he was destined for greatness. The fact that he was contacted because of his previous article made the whole thing even better.

He knew it.

The Boy-Who-Lived would become his stepping stone. He smirked at the mirror as he fixed his tie. Well, if he spiced things up a little bit in his writings, no one could fault him. He _was_ a reporter.

He was so delighted, he didn't even shout at the person who had accidentally bumped into him at the stairs. Just a few chosen words, and he was off.

* * *

Cassius looked at the lone figure in the cafe and his smile faltered. The person was dressed neatly, with the only exception being a mass of un-tamable hair. It was nothing really, he looked like any other person, just waiting for his caffeine fix before they were off to work. But one thing stood out.

His eyes.

He had to stop himself from shivering, especially when those brilliant green eyes focused on him. They sent a chill straight down his spine.

 _Leave,_ his instincts screamed at him.

He pushed then aside. It was the hard headed, stupidly brave, _Gryffindor_ Boy-Who-Lived. He couldn't be dangerous.

So he smiled and sat himself down opposite him.

That interview would definitely change his life.

* * *

As soon as Harry saw the man, he knew he will win. He had arrogance oozing out of him, clearly not giving a damn about how his words affected the life of others. All he had was ambition and a disregard of the means to achieve it. He could see the moment the man had labelled Harry as nothing too dangerous. He hadn't realized the trap.

Too bad people didn't know that the Sorting Hat's first choice for Harry was Slytherin.

Well, as long as it worked out for him. Harry smiled, as he put less than appropriate pressure on the handshake.

* * *

Harry started with pleasantries, slowly moving on to the reporter's latest article.

"How did you come to know about Granger?" He asked casually.

That was all the other man needed.

"Oh that?" He began excitedly, too excitedly Harry would say. "Did you like it?"

"Well, I'm here, aren't I?"

"You see, I knew someone like her couldn't be a part of your, you know, close circle. A mud- ah, pardon me, _muggleborn_ _girl_ , being the Minister of Magic? Star student of Hogwarts? Part of the Golden Trio? I knew it was impossible!"

Harry's face was calm. "Impossible how?"

"I wrote all about it in the article! A lowborn like her ruling Magical World? Do you know the outrageous ideas she have? She wants to free the elf! And equal rights for werewolves?" He laughed derisively. "As if. Women should know their place. Makes you wonder what she did to get all those O's in her OWLs and NEWTs, eh?"

"Indeed." Harry said, pleasantly. "Now let's get to business."

"I'm glad you see it my way."

* * *

By the end of the day, Daily Prophet had issued a special evening newspaper apologizing to one Hermione Granger and all the masses for publishing embellished news. There was an open letter from the reporter as well. They also went out of business that month.

No other article was ever published in the name of Cassius Zograf. Some reported him to be working in a bar at the periphery of Scotland and any mention of Harry Potter was enough to make him shut down for a couple of hours.

* * *

 _"Why don't we take a walk?" Potter said, riding from his chair. "And about the interview, " he continued, as he offered his hand. "We can talk while we walk."_

 _As soon as they were out of the cafe, the grip on his hand suddenly tightened._

 _"What-"_

 _"Just follow my lead." Said Harry as he dragged him into an alley and apparated._

 _Right to his home._

 _Cassius was bound, gagged and tied to his chair before he could say Merlin._

 _He could only stare in horror as Potter took his wand and-_

 _"Priori Incantatem."_

 _"So," Potter began conversationally, "Lots of tracking spells, a few Imperius, and is that a mirror linking charm? What do you have to say for yourself, Zograf?"_

 _Quite ironical, since he was gagged._

 _"Let's see what else we can dig out."_

 _He watched in horrifying fascination as Potter turned and walked to the seemingly empty wall and gave a few experimental taps. A few spells later, secret locker became visible. He undid the curses on them in one fluid motion and took out the contents._

 _"Do you think these subjects will be happy if they come to know that you were spying on them? And you really don't want Malfoys and Longbottoms on your case, trust me."_

 _His cold, emerald eyes fixed on him. "And I'm pretty sure that Argus Keddle was the one who told you to write that article on Hermione. Weeding out the competition?"_

 _This time Potter undid the bindings on his mouth._

 _"No, no- why-"_

 _"Also, what would the press say about these_ love letters? _Wizarding world still disapproves same sex marriage, you know?" His voice turned frostier. "Hermione could have helped you with that, you know? She has plans, lots of them, which called, ah, what was the term?_ Foolish and outrageous ideas _?"_

 _He could only whimper. "I'm sorry, please don't-"_

 _"Of course, I can give you an out." Potter continued pleasantly. "That is, if you are interested."_

 _He could only nod frantically._

 _Potter released him and procured a paper, a letter, and a quill._

 _"Sign that apology letter, will you? And stay from writing or-," he waved the documents in his hands. "I don't think I need to explain?"_

 _"But-"_

 _"I'm sorry, I didn't make myself clear - I'm not asking."_

That interview definitely changed his life.

And he would pretend he did not hear Potter's muttering of dealing with The Daily Prophet.

* * *

House: Slytherin

Year: 4

Category: Standard.

Prompt:"I'm sorry, I didn't make myself clear - I'm not asking.",

Additional : cunning.

Word count: 1500.

Beta: DaronwyK


	2. Chapter 2

_**Summary:**_ _The reason Harry believes in Santa._

 _Warning: Skims over child abuse._

* * *

 **Chapter 2**

"Hey, hey, what did you wish for Christmas?"

"I wished for a huge teddy bear."

"Roller blades!"

"Storybooks are way more awesome than that."

"Stupid! Don't you know you are not supposed to say your wishes out loud? They don't come true then."

Dull green eyes looked at the horrified group of children. Soon after, they all started denying that they didn't actually say their wishes out loud, it was just to throw the others off-track. The messy, raven-haired boy knew they were lying. As they all did.

Santa Claus was not real. He never, ever heard the wishes of any children.

If he did, Harry would have had a family.

Harry knew he wasn't a naughty child, per se, even if his aunt and teachers and classmates believed so. He did everything that was asked of him, he worked hard, he never harmed anyone- that should pretty much keep him out of the Naughty List of Santa.

Sure, he may have stolen a bit of Dudley's chocolate one night, but that was because he was hungry! He hadn't eaten since morning that day! And he needed a bit of energy to work the next day.

When the shears fell from his hands and hurt his toes and flattened some of Aunt Petunia's grass- he had tried, but it was just so heavy! He had managed to completely clean the lawn that day, so it should be forgiven, right?

OK, so maybe he had done some stuffs that wasn't completely deserving to go on the Nice list, but surely Santa was kind enough to average it out? Either the people made him out to be kinder and more benevolent than he actually was-

-Or he didn't _exist._

Harry dearly wished for a family.

He knew the other children will laugh at him- "You already have a family, stupid!"- so he never said it out loud. But he knew, they were not his family. It was first made clear to him the day they threw his drawing of _their_ family, Uncle Vernon, Aunt Petunia, Dudley and had dared to insert himself in that picture- it was for a school project. They had made it quite clear that he was just an orphan and a _parasite._ And that, they definitely did not classify as family.

He dearly wished for a home, not a place to stay, but _home._ Where everything was warm and people actually loved you and praised you, like those he saw in the TV. He wanted a proper mother and father, of whom he didn't have to feel ashamed of and who would take him to park and cook yummy treats for him and-

Harry discreetly wiped a tear as he packed his bag.

Even knowing that Santa was not real, he still wished, every year.

* * *

"Papa, what do you wish for in Christmas?"

Bright green eyes looked up from his book, startled.

That was a familiar question. Harry smiled at his little angel, who was holding a small fluffy blanket and rubbing her eyes with the free hand. At his beckoning, she came forward and jumped on the sofa, snuggling by his side.

"Why do you ask?"

His question was countered by, "Is Santa real?"

He waited a few moments before answering.

"Yes, he is, Lils."

She looked up at him, her face scrunched up. "Then what did you wish for?"

"Dad, you're back!"

"Daddy!"

Harry let out a small grunt as his other two adorable little devils jumped on him like a cushion. It immediately began a fierce fight between the three regarding who he loved best.

"Children! It's way past your bedtime!" Admonished Ginny.

They gave identical whines which did nothing to change her mind.

"How about I tuck you all in?" proposed Harry, ever the peacemaker.

* * *

"It's nothing, Lils," whispered Harry as he put his youngest to bed.

She sleepily looked up at him, "Nothing what, Papa?"

"I don't wish for anything in Christmas. Not anymore," Harry clarified.

"Why not?"

Harry kissed her forehead. "Good night, Lil-bear."

She was already out.

Harry checked the rooms of each of the three mini-ruffians again and relaxed as he felt Ginny's fingers entwine with his.

He smiled.

 _Santa was real. A little slow, but real._

 _He got everything he had ever wished for._

* * *

Category: Drabble.

Year: 4

House: Slytherin

Round 10.

Theme: family

Additional: a sad emotion

Word count: 733

Beta: DaronwyK


	3. Home

**Home**

 _ **Summary:**_ _James comes up with a supposedly brilliant plan and everyone is impressed._ Not.

* * *

"-And that's it! The most brilliant strategy in the history of magic." James finishes with a flourish after he completes unrolling and explaining the lengthy piece of parchment. The Marauders stare blankly at the hopeful look in his eye, glittering with the expectation of high praise.

"Well?" The be-spectacled boy prods.

"That's . . . amazing!" Peter exclaims, awe shining in his face.

Sirius gives a low whistle. "Impressive, mate. How long did it take?"

"A whole week," James says, chest puffed up like a proud peacock.

Remus stares, gobsmacked. And stares. Then stares some more. Finally, he recovers enough to utter, "Have you lost your mind?" he asks calmly.

He is not surprised to find himself on the receiving end of three identical, disbelieving stares.

"Are you implying that I am mad?" James says, crossing his arms in front of him, brows scrunched up, affronted. "That my brilliantly thought out _plan_ is mad?"

"Yes, exactly," deadpans Remus.

"You are incorrigible," says James.

"Look who is speaking," Sirius mutters out of the earshot of his closest friend, before smirking. Out loud he says, "I can't wait to see what happens."

Remus glares at both of them, which they expertly ignore.

Jumping down from his bed, James rubs his hands gleefully. "So, who is ready for the first step?"

Remus rolls his eyes as the other two idiots cheer.

 **Operation: Woo Lily Evans** is a go.

* * *

 _Step One: Make Lily believe she has a Secret Admirer._

One irate Lily Evans stomps into The Great Wall with a bouquet of flowers in her hand and spotting the Marauders at their self-designated place in Gryffindor table, she lobs it perfectly at James' head.

He looks up, clutching the flowers, bewildered. "How in the name of Morgana did you know it was me?" he demands.

Lily's glare is nothing to scoff at. "I wouldn't have, if you had not gotten me _lily_ of all things."

"Oh."

A few minutes later, Sirius speaks up. "She gave you flowers Prongsie! Your plan is already working."

Peter and Remus snicker as James continue to sulk.

* * *

 _Step Five: Be nice to Snivellus, err, Snape._

"Good morning, Sni- Snape," James intones, making sure to be in the line of sight of his red-headed soulmate.

The greasy boy glares at him suspiciously before promptly telling him to bugger off.

It evolves into a fight before Remus can say Merlin and ends with Lily declaring she would rather date the Womping Willow.

"Hey, at least she is finally considering dating!" James' optimism was painful, specially when he is nursing a black eye.

Remus contemplates between smacking his face or smacking his friend and decides to do the latter.

Injured or not, stupidity was unforgivable.

* * *

 _Step nineteen: Be a gentleman._

"So, you are planning to do what exactly?" Even Peter is sceptical.

"I don't know, stuff like hold the door for her, pay for her- you know."

"We are in a school, James, a boarding school. The doors open magically. The food is free." The smallest of the Marauders points out painstakingly. And before the other boy can retaliate, he continues, "It's not like she is agreeing to a date anytime soon."

"She would also like to pay for her own share, I think." Sirius thoughtfully adds his two sickles.

Needless to say, that ploy is scraped.

* * *

 _Step thirty-three: Introduce her to your friends._

"What's wrong with him?" grumbles Lily in one of their study sessions. At his look, she amends, "I mean, more than it normally is."

"He is James," Remus shrugs, like it explains everything.

(Later during the day, he has to curb James' glee of "It worked!" by mentioning Lily and him were friends already from First Year.)

* * *

 _Step too-bloody-late to remember: Impress her._

"Wow, Potter, you can produce a Patronus?"

James smiles proudly at the stag that pranced around him and subtly looks over to see Lily.

Well, everyone other than her seems impressed.

He can't keep the grin off his face when Alice whispers to her, "You have similar patronuses?"

* * *

 _Secret step: Get my parents to persuade her._

Remus is completely, utterly, done.

"Does your mother know what you've been up to?" he demands.

James just sighs dejectedly.

Taking out his wand, Remus burns the blasted thing off. James doesn't even protest.

"Maybe, she just doesn't like me," he mutters. "I haven't exactly been the greatest example." He peeks from between his fingers. "I'm horrible, aren't I? Can't even take a hint."

A minute of eerie silence in their room.

Finally, Remus explodes. He claps his friend on the shoulder, sharing a look with Sirius and Peter and is reminded how much of an example James is to them. Befriending a Black when he was ostracized from both sides, giving him a family, supporting a lone werewolf when the world would rather see him dead and helping a timid, shy boy to find his place- James is their home.

So, when he vows to stop chasing Lily and start focussing on the future, they all share a relieved sigh.

Maybe, there is hope yet for their friend.

* * *

Name: Yuki Suou

House: Slytherin

Year: Six

Category: Drabble

Prompt:"Does your mother/father know what you've been up to?"

Word Count: 869

Beta: Adri (Thank you so much for bearing with my technological stupidity.)


	4. Broken Shards and Purple Hyacinths

**Broken shard and Purple Hyacinth**

 _ **Summary**_ _: One doesn't really feel Death till it becomes personal. (Trigger warning- losing a child.)_

* * *

"Everyone be asleep, Mistress."

Narcissa opened her eyes at the barely audible voice of their house-elf. Dismissing her, she gradually got up from the four-poster bed that seemed too large nowadays and walked to the closet. The house-elf vanished with a pop. She took out a shawl and wrapped it tightly around her wiry frame, pausing to check herself over the mirror for a moment before leaving the room with a confident stride.

The Malfoy Matriarch's steps were light, barely a whisper in the night and made it feel more like she was gliding across the halls. She left their personal quarters, taking a right and then descended down the stairs softly, all the while keeping an ear out for movements.

" _To be afraid in our own house_ ", her own mind was nothing more than decrepit in the last few years. To think, a proud Black to be falling so low.

Choking back a sob that threatened to rip out- _you made your own bed, do not shy away when it is time to lie down on it-_ she knew it was futile.

It had been for a long time.

She continued walking till she reached a corridor where majority of the portraits hung. The light from the lanterns were golden, lending an eerie quality to the hallway. It was deep in the house and rarely anyone ever came in. The portraits were mostly snoozing, the few still awake refrained from uttering any harsh comments that night. They still judged her and her actions, accusing, blaming-

She was grateful to whatever deities that gave her these small mercies- not that she deserved to.

Narcissa's elegant face contorted into a frown, lips pressed together as she neared her destination. The room she was heading for was already open, the door left slightly ajar as the light streamed out.

She breathed out, a sigh of frustration, rage or resignation, she did not know anymore as she accurately guessed who might be the current occupant of the room.

After all, the room was keyed in to the signature of only two persons.

"Lucius." She said, after entering the room and shutting the door with a click. She turned to look impassively as the man, who she could claim to have loved once, startled.

The hunched over form, only a shade of his former glory, straightened and Narcissa got a clear view of what he was holding.

A shard of green glass- result of Draco's first accidental magic.

She glanced around the room, the one they created to keep all of Draco's landmarks- _childbirth was difficult in the Malfoy line and after so, so many near misses and heartbreaks-_ it would be an understatement to say that they treasured Draco.

There was Draco's first broom.

His first written words.

His first creation.

His Hogwarts certificates.

The O.W.L. certificate.

 _(It didn't hold the signs of Draco's first kill, his first Crucio, his first_ _ **punishment**_ _.)_

She looked at Lucius, now facing her and tried to search for any trace of the man that had been so overjoyed at seeing their son for the first time that he had shed tears, that man who indulgently taught Draco to walk and write, laughed along with his flying failures, the man-

 _-who was now so different, so broken-_

and it was no one's fault but their own.

"Cissy." The utterly exhausted man uttered, still cradling that broken piece of glass like it was his only lifeline.

Narcissa saw herself reflected in his muddy grey eyes, and she couldn't find the unbending, prideful woman, the Black, either.

She hadn't realized when she had walked to close the distance between them as she grasped his hands, still holding the first piece of evidence of Draco's magic.

Life had dealt them a good hand but they yearned for better, and flew too close to the sun and burned.

"When did this- everything- go so wrong?"

She loosened her grip, slowly prying the broken- _not unlike them_ \- shard away and placing it on the cushion.

"Let's go, Lucius." She said, voice firm, hiding the tremor. "Tomorrow is the final day."

The day they will storm a school, to destroy the last opposition for a monster they have sworn their loyalty, magic and life to and-

-they had no idea if they would be whole ever again.

As she laid down in her too large queen-sized bed- _where her husband and sometimes, when nightmare used to strike, her son too, used to sleep_ \- she prayed to all the deities out there and to Magick-

 _Let Draco live._

* * *

" _Is Draco alive? Is he in the castle?"_

" _Yes."_

 _A moment of silence._

" _He is dead." The voice announces._

* * *

The war is over.

With a huge penalty, with much destruction and bloodshed, the war spanning over two decades was finally over.

Narcissa couldn't demarcate who was shaking as she hugged Draco, Lucius on his other side.

Because it was over and there will be consequences and she couldn't think of anything good she had done because _Draco was alive and not whole but alive-_

Her hands brushed over Lucius, the touch feeling foreign after a long time and he clasped her hands back.

As the Great Hall, scorched, destroyed started to fill with the survivors and bodies were brought in one by one, she shuddered.

So many _children_.

Previously, it never bothered her, she had watched from afar and felt as a human felt towards the death of another unknown human- be it a child or an adult.

Sitting there, she couldn't ignore it anymore. No matter she didn't raise her wand against them- she was still equally responsible.

Molly Weasley wailed as she clutched the lifeless hand of a red-headed boy, lying in the mass of dead.

Andromeda Tonks nee Black stared at the now dull visage of the once bright, colorful auror, whose larger than life presence did not translate over in her death.

The too small bodies of two other children bore a hole in her mind, one of them still clutching a camera. She saw someone remove it and found herself directly in line if sight of the _deaddeaddead_ eyes, accusing, blaming-

Draco's hand - _warmwarmNOTcold_ \- clutched her arms.

* * *

A purple hyacinth appeared on each of those graves.

Everyday.

Unfailingly.

* * *

House: Slytherin

Year: 6

Category: Standard

Prompt: prompt- Losing a child.

Word Count: 1,045

Unbetaed.


	5. The Shopping Disaster

**The s** **hopping disaster**

 _ **Summary:**_ _Ron goes shopping and comes back with a story to tell._

* * *

Ron stared at the list that his beloved wife had shoved at him before rushing to the fireplace and disappearing by the Floo.

Being the spouse of the Minister of Magic had its pros and cons. Actually, Ron mused, there were mostly cons than pros, but well.

At least they were making the world a better place.

He sighed, running a hand through his thinning hair and rose from the couch. His right knee gave a slight twinge, an award from his long-standing Auror career. He put the list in his pocket while massaging his right knee. Seems like he would have to go to the muggle convenient store just around the block. He wasn't really feeling like apparating.

Ron crossed the drawing room and taking some muggle cash from their bedroom, he was finally ready to leave. Locking their front door, he glanced at the little pots decorating their porch. One of them, a gardenia, was looking a bit sickly.

"I've got to do something about that," he muttered to himself, his feet already leading him to the front gate of their yard.

Humming to himself, he made his way towards a similar looking house down the lane. He got inside, the front gate creaking slightly. The door was already opened by a smiling Mrs. Granger before he could knock.

"What brings you here today?" asked the bushy-haired lady before ushering him, "Come on in."

Ron, accepting her hug in the meantime, politely refused before explaining her the purpose of his visit. "Just going to the store, you need anything, Martha?"

"Oh," she said, looking a bit disappointed. "Nothing though- wait, can you get milk? The one in our fridge has turned bad," she said, apologetically.

Ron gave her a thumbs-up.

* * *

It was Ron's idea actually to move into the Muggle neighborhood where his in-laws resided. None of them were getting any younger and frankly speaking, being close to her aging parents lessened Hermione's concern regarding one matter at least. While his Mum and Dad were also getting older, they were wizards- not quite as vulnerable as the Grangers were. Also, George took care of the elderly Weasleys and the dentist couple had only their daughter to rely on.

Ron had seen how mundane life gets with age. With a history like theirs, surviving a not-quite-safe school and living through a war, then the matter of supporting and re-structuring of the Wizarding World itself was a tedious job which left them with little to no time to slack off. Then came marriage, kids- and well, everyone knew how _that_ changed people.

And currently, with peace-times and a stable society, his job of Head Auror was limited to paperwork. The kids had grown up, ready to fly from their nest, so he could truly appreciate the crippling loneliness. All in all, staying close to the Grangers helped both families immensely.

Ron broke out of his musings as the automatic doors of the store opened with a swish, leading him inside. It was fairly empty, a few housewives taking advantage of the sale, a college student piling an almost suicidal amount of coffee and a young teen at the cash.

He smiled when the women recognized him as their neighbor before continuing with their gossip and grabbed a cart. The teen was still engrossed in her phone and the college student looked like he barely noticed the people around him.

It was when he was taking the last object, the milk as, that the screams started.

Years of battle-honed reflexes led him to drop his purchases. Eyes immediately scanned the area, looking for the threat and possible escapes.

Two threats, one with a gun- both their faces covered.

The cashier had already dropped her phone, cowering behind the counter.

The five women were huddled together behind an aisle.

And oh Merlin- the last one was still piling packaged foods.

Ron cursed mentally. Gripping his wand tight- no fancy movements, muggle area- he crept closer to the two assailants under the cover of the racks.

Lanky frame, trembling hands- late teens, inexperienced. More chances of an accidental firing of the Muggle weapon.

Ron waited till the firearm faced slightly lateral to the shaking cashier and muttered a quick disarming charm.

As soon as the weapons went sailing, he rushed out, quick as a bolt of lightning and socked them straight in the jaw. He elbowed the knife holder in the gut, following with a quick jab to the neck. Both of them went down like wet paper. All was good.

Till the third intruder rushed in- knife in hand and-

-dropped like a cut puppet.

Ron stared incredulously at the bored expression of the caffeine addict- who had brought down the goon with a well-placed throw of packaged food.

He glared sullenly. "They were delaying my purchase. I need to submit my presentation in oh- twenty minutes!" He exclaimed and scurried for checkout.

 _ **Students.**_

* * *

"-and that's how I became a muggle celebrity!" boasted Ron at the next Weasley dinner.

There were a lot of scoffs and groans.

"Haven't heard that one before," deadpanned Rose.

"Only about a hundred times," grumbled Hugo.

Harry opened his mouth-

"Shut up!" snarled Hermione.

\- and closed it.

"Ron was bested by a kid," crowed George.

Harry grinned and hi-fived him.

* * *

House: Slytherin

Year: Six

Category: Drabble

Prompt: [Action] Shopping at a muggle grocery store as a witch/wizard.

Word Count: 899

Beta: Adri and Naela 3 3

* * *

Thanks a lot to **Guest** and owlwayssandforever for reviewing!


	6. Changing beliefs

**Changing beliefs**

 _ **Summary:**_ _Draco' s mission goes wrong. Help arrives from unexpected source._

* * *

Draco kept a careful eye on his target over the newspaper he was pretending to read for the last quarter of an hour. He sipped on his tea and turned to flag down the waitress, getting a clear look at the obese man with pince-nez in the process.

The cafe he was sitting in was a cozy one, with ten tables whose seating ranged from two to four. The barista was a cheerful young man who never failed to smile at any hour of the day and four waitresses that worked in shifts. With menu ranging from different varieties of tea and coffee and a good selection of cakes and breads, it attracted a fair crowd. Despite being a new venture, business was going smoothly.

The bell at the door jingled, signalling the entry of a new customer. Draco perked up as the thickly-built man sat down with his target. That magical tattoo which was peeking from his collarbone and the shape of an enchanted knife in his sleeves made him sure- Draco might have bitten off more than he could chew.

"-order, sir? Sir?"

Draco smiled winningly at the waitress, "Oh hello, sorry about that. Would mind giving me the-", he checked the menu once again before giving up, "-strongest coffee you have?" At her raised eyebrow, he added sheepishly, "These names really don't make any sense to me."

Her laugh was a clear, carefree one. He couldn't help but admire how her emerald eyes glittered when she smiled- an expression that open was hard to find in the current time. Draco caught himself almost smiling at that.

Before the war, Draco wouldn't have been caught dead in these places with these people. But the disastrous couple of years had snapped something within him. The constant fear of having to live under the shadow of a madman, the ever present promise of torture and death, his mother's silent sobs every night, the screams of the people he tortured, the Boy-Who-Lived saving his life _again,_ when he had nothing to gain- it destroyed him.

More so, when it was made public that Lord Vol- _no,_ Tom Riddle was a by-product of what amounted to rape _and_ was a mudblo- half-muggle. A half-blood with delusions of grandeur and twisted ambitions that had set back the Wording World by decades.

And the Ministry had done _nothing._

That's when his obsession with truth and lie began. If a Dark Lord with questionable pedigree can hold that much of power, how deep did the corruption go? What was the truth?

Four years later, he was an established journalist in the Daily Prophet, where he had risen through the ranks and held enough power currently to stop the publishing of stupid, biased news that they were more prone to do (being one of the major shareholders- along with Potter- also helped). Draco _was_ a Slytherin after all.

" _-11 pm- The Red- today-"_

Draco rose smoothly from his seat, coffee long finished and made a beeline for the cash counter. Mission accomplished, (the Weasleys were good, the tracking device that he had ordered worked seamlessly without being noticed) he left the cafe with plans already clicking in place. His hand messed up his now brown hair as he flagged down a taxi for a safer apparation point.

* * *

Draco hated bars. The alcohol was cheap, the stench was unbearable and since that particular place also served for _other_ pleasures of flesh-

All in all, Draco was doing all he could to _not_ vomit. Clutching at the glass with the strange, fruity liquor, he tried his best to eavesdrop on the conversation going on at the table just behind him over the din of the place.

The reception was becoming patchy- he would have to give the feedback to Weasley to introduce a sound filtering feature.

"You are looking quite pale there. Maybe a room would be more comfortable?"

Draco coughed, as he swallowed the drink, his throat itching slightly. Turning, he glanced at the lady of the night who was quite shamelessly roving her eyes over him.

"No, thank you." He said politely. "I'm just here for the drink." He signed the barkeep for a glass of water.

The conversation behind him was getting more and more interesting- the Assistant of the current Head of DMLE making deals with what seemed like the muggle mafia- one which, if he wasn't wrong, experimented on _children._

"You know, it is rude to ignore a lady."

The water failed to sooth his itching throat. Absentmindedly, he scratched at spot above his wrist, and sneered at the prostitute sitting beside him. If it was him from before, he would have pointed out that she wasn't a _lady_ of all things and added some derogatory remark.

But, he had changed.

At least, she was working honestly.

"No, I'm not interested," he emphasized on the _not._

She stared at him for a second, before leaning close enough that her breath grazed his earlobe. His breath hitched and he tried to move, but he was sandwiched by a burly man from other side- the death grip with which she was holding his arm was also a deterrent.

"Get out of here. They will kill you." She said, pretending to murmur sweet nothings as her other hand stroked his thigh.

Very carefully schooling his feature ( _bloody hell- they knew- he should have been more careful),_ he stared into her eyes and pushed her off at her signal. He didn't ask why she was helping him- maybe she took pity on the boyish looking features- thank Morgana he was embarrassingly good at glamour charms.

The whole bar stood up and Draco- response honed from battles- lunged towards the door. Trying to apparate would only leave him wide open for spells- _and oh Merlin, they had guns-_

He destroyed the lights first.

It all happened in a moment.

He threw an overpowered Protego around him, and smashed his glass on the face of his first assailant.

 _Fifteen steps more._

Ducking under a jet of red light, he stepped aside and let the bullets hit the counter.

 _Ten steps more._

Dropping the shield, he sent a cutting curse, a leg-locker and finally a Reducto. The table went up in sprays of dust, shouts entered his ears.

 _Five more steps._

Narrowly missed another bullet and suddenly he was coughing violently as he reached the door, the itching reached a new level and-

 _-he couldn't breathe-_

He crashed through the door and locked it from the outside, wheezing the whole time, his lips swelling up, lungs constricting and ran.

He clawed at his throat, trying to get some air and stumbled down an alleyway. It was dark and he apparated with a crack.

* * *

"-hey, hey! Come on, respond!"

He cracked open his eye, lungs still not working properly and was greeted by a familiar face, it was the waitress from the morning.

He was lying near the dumpster of a strangely familiar alley.

Huh. Who would have thought. He had apparated near the cafe.

Then a sharp pain in his arm and the familiar girl, the waitress with brilliant green eyes, continued to talk rapidly.

"I'm gonna die and I don't even know your name," he rasped out.

She stared at him incredulously before huffing.

"You have been coming at the cafe, everyday, for the last week and you don't know my name?" She glared at him, intimidatingly. _Not._

Then the words registered. She recognized him? Oh.

The Polyjuice was still working. He had dropped the glamours while apparating.

Thank Merlin, they couldn't connect him to the Malfoy name.

"It's Sarah, by the way." She informed him haughtily, before adding, "And you're not dying."

He blinked at that. Yes, his breathing had become less laborious and-

"How?" he blurted out, wincing at his own voice.

She dangled a small, thin device in front him. He squinted at it.

"You had a severely allergic reaction to something. I injected you with epipen."

He stared at her, hoping that the words would make more sense.

She rolled her eyes, "I had one of those episodes long ago. I am severely allergic to cinnamon and since I work in a cafe which serves recipes with _cinnamon,_ I keep it on me all the times." She gave him a stink-eye. "What were you doing? Your hand is also bleeding."

Breathing became more manageable, as he tried to sit up. His left hand was littered with cuts- must have been from the glass and looked at her.

"Thank you." He said quietly. "You saved my life."

Sarah shook her head. "You still need to go to the hospital."

Draco almost protested before pausing. Chances are, they will be on the lookout in St. Mungo's. He really was in deep trouble.

A muggle clinic, on other hand.

"Is there any small clinic nearby?"

Sarah smiled. "I know just the place."

* * *

It was a clinic owned by her dad, a healer- _doctor-_ with a warm smile. They were greeted by Sarah's mother and her enthusiastic little brother as he got his wound cleaned and a few more shots.

He learned that Sarah herself was studying to get into nursing schools, that's why she was working in the cafe part-time- apparently the course cost a lot.

By the time he was leaving, he was coerced into having a light meal and the promise of a check-up next day.

"Will you be alright?" Sarah asked anxiously as she hopped from foot to foot.

Draco smiled at her as he closed the gate behind them.

"Yes."

"Are you a magician?" She suddenly asked. Whispered.

Draco froze once again. Carefully, without any inflection in his voice he asked. "What makes you think that?"

Her voice was dry. "Since, you know, you appeared out of nowhere in that alley?"

He gripped his wand.

 _But he kind of didn't want her to forget._

"Don't worry, I can keep a secret," she winked as he turned to face her.

He looked at her face, so open, all emotions etched out for the world to see, green eyes glittering with a different emotion.

Curiosity.

So unlike him.

He nodded to himself, coming to a decision.

* * *

"Can I get the strongest cup of coffee? These names don't make sense to me."

Sarah beamed at the brunet, a new customer and took his order. She had an odd feeling of deja-vu, but shook it off.

"I'm Draco, by the way." The handsome brunet introduced himself.

"I'm Sarah."

He had a really pretty smile.

* * *

House: Slytherin

Year: Six

Category: Standard

Prompt:[Speech] "I'm gonna die and I don't even know your name."

Word Count: 1798

Beta: Naela.

Thanks to **Guest** and **vapourtrailreads** for reviewing!


	7. Hopeful

**Hopeful**

 _ **Summary:**_ _He will not live his live as his predecessors- lonely and forgotten._

* * *

Large, bulbous eyes stared at the person peeking inside his temporary home.

"You ready to go out there, Bru?"

The creature, recently christened Bru, hunched over and swallowed heavily, before nodding. He needed to do this.

No- he _had_ to do it.

Bru knew he was a pitiful creature. With his ill-fitting skin, covered by rough warts and rugae and large eyes that seemed ready to pop out of the sockets- he knew he was a monster. Cursed to roam the lands, forever haunted by loneliness and finally one day, just blink out of existence- leaving only a puddle of water as a proof of living- just like his mother did.

But _he_ did not want to waste his life like that, forever wandering the forests(of Pennsylvania, that's what the bright haired human told him)- alone, crying, forgotten. He wanted to _live._

And maybe, maybe a part of him wished, hoped, to be accepted. To not just stop existing one day, to not even be remembered- but to live and be loved.

He remembered his mother telling him to not be foolish in between her sobs, no one could possibly love a creature such as them. They weren't furry or useful or beautiful- they were hideous. He remembered nodding along.

Then at night, he would lay down and peer up at the heavens- the glittering sky inciting a wave of awe.

 _It was a huge world,_ he thought. _Everything has a first time,_ he thought. _Everyone should have a chance,_ he thought.

So when a part of the forest was cleared and the Big Worms were brought in, he crept closer- despite the warnings. He found himself getting fascinated by the large creatures. They were majestic in a way that he would never be- it took all of his willpower to not break down crying then and there.

Days passed and he took a few more steps everyday, bringing him closer and closer to the area- till he was noticed.

Bru was scared- no, terrified. The bright haired human had looked at him curiously and-

-he had _smiled._

So Bru did the only reasonable thing.

He ran.

Bru didn't visit the place for a few days, but each day, the tiny little seed of hope in his mind had grown larger and larger- till one day he was once again hiding in the bushes in front of the gates where he had seen him.

No one had ever smiled at him. Even the other animals shied away from him.

So, he had arrived, once again, wanting, needing to see that smile once more.

And he was not disappointed.

* * *

"Hey, mate, you alright?" The voice of that same person brought him back to the present.

He nodded and started to clamber out of the magical suitcase.

Everyone was quiet as he slowly came into view. He heard a few sharp intake of breaths and a shriek and tried to make himself smaller.

"Merlin, what's that?"

"Charlie!"

"Is- is that a sqounk?"

 _ItWasABadIdea-HeShouldn'tHaveCome-andTheTearsStartedtoFall- nonononononono- HeDidn'tWantTODIE- nonono-_

Soft arms embraced him.

Bru looked up, his visions blurry, to see a small human with bright coloured hair- different than _his_ human. Another one was standing right right beside him, smiling the same bright smile.

"Hello Bru, I'm Lorcan and this is my brother Lysander. We can be your new friend if you want?" he said, his voice soft. The other one nodded beside him.

His sobs had reduced to sniffles when he looked up to see the bright human, ( _Charlie, he was Charlie)_ grinning. He said, "I promised you a home, didn't I?"

Bru looked at the two small humans staring at him expectantly- _at him!-_ and stopped crying. Completely. For the first time in his life. A warmth unfurled in his chest- a warmth he had only ever dreamt of feeling. Slowly, slowly he moved towards the outstretched hand of the other small human.

He hadn't thought that their smiles could get even brighter.

 _And he was responsible for that happiness._

As even the bigger humans pet him, some hesitantly, some not- he couldn't help but think of the evening he had decided to return back.

That little seed of hope had somehow become a little tree and was growing yet.

Bru knew then that he wouldn't be dying like his mother- lonely and forgotten.

* * *

Name: Yuki Suou

House: Slytherin

Year: Six

Drabble: Hopeful.

Word count: 717.

Author's note:

 _A squonk is a creature found in the Hemlock forest of Pensylvania and is a sad, lonely creature- most notable for its hideous countenance. They weep out of loneliness and are said to disintegrate into bubbles and water as their sadness increase._


	8. Daily lives

**Daily lives of Magical Boys (And a Girl)**

"Why is our life so boring?" asked Souta as he lay sprawled on the field at recess.

"Seriously! I mean look at that British School, Hogwarts! They always have something exciting happening!" exclaimed Nagisa. He continued, getting up and shaking his fists for added effects. "They don't even have compulsory Muggle subjects!"

"Maths should be banned," Nao muttered, still furiously attacking her homework. "This is ridiculous," she cried, finally giving up and slamming the book shut.

"You should be grateful for the normality," said Kai.

They all turned to look at the sombre voice in disbelief. The boy in question raised his hands, placatingly, at the chorus of deadpanned "What."

"I mean it!" He said, trying to move away from Nao's swatting. "Adventures are totally not what they are cracked up to be!"

"Yeah? How would you know?" Souta sneered, "You've ever gone on one?"

Kai replied as he got up and danced away from Nao. "Actually, I went on one. In the summer vacation."

At their expected stares, he nodded sagely, "Gather around and I'll tell you why sleeping at home is always the better option."

* * *

 **3 weeks ago. . .**

Kai was a heavy sleeper. So, when he actually woke up that night at his elder sister, Kyoko's frantic calls, he had to use a few minutes to orient himself.

Nakagawa Kyoko, the heiress of Nakagawa shrine was a _miko-_ in-training and specialised in barriers and purification rituals. The day before, their parents had gone to meet up with their branch family members and not wanting to wake up their grandfather, she had come to Kai.

"Something appeared inside the temple barriers," she whispered urgently as Kai processed the information, eyes wide. "We have to check!"

Swallowing roughly, he nodded jerkily. Clambering up, he went straight to the table located at the corner of the room and opened the third drawer. Armed with talismans, he followed his sister quietly to the location she had felt the intrusion.

Moonlight flooded the compound, the silvery sheen making it seem like something straight out of a fairytale. A light breeze was blowing, creating ripples in the koi pond behind their house.

Both of them jumped as an owl hooted in the distance. They gripped their lanterns tight and kept on going.

The location of the intrusion seemed to be behind an old, dry well which was quite a distance away from their main building.

The siblings looked at each other.

"I'll go first, Kyo-neechan," Kai said bravely, not at all feeling it.

Kyoko replied shakily, "No, I'm older, I should-"

They froze as a groan emerged from behind the well.

"It sounds hurt?" Kai offered nervously. "We should check it together?"

Taking a deep breath, both of them moved at the same time, one with _Shield_ and another with _Barrier_ talisman held in front of them, sure to combat any strong foe-

-only to find a groaning creature at their feet.

"It's a kappa," Kai said, dumbly. He held the lantern closer to inspect its feature. The greenish creature shied away from the bright light and once more groaned in pain. It looked like it could barely sit, supported by the wall of the well. Kai frowned. "It doesn't look hurt."

"No! It isn't hurt but it is dying!" exclaimed Kyoko, pointing at the saucer-like bowl on top its head. "Look! It is supposed to be full of water, but only about a quarter is filled!"

"Please. . . Help. . ." It( _he?)_ rasped out. "We shall be. . ." he coughed, ". . . forever grateful."

"What happened?" Kyoko asked.

"The _oyabun- Suiko-_ he turned on us."

The _Suiko_ was a water sprite, sometimes mistaken with kappa. They were called the boss and generally had about forty-eight kappa under them. At least that's what Kai remembered from his lessons. Flax seeds were known to repel them.

"Why? And where is your river?" Kai crouched in front of him and supported him. The kappa sagged against him in relief.

Apparently, they were from the Naka river and the reason why the _Suiko_ turned against them was a mystery. A _Tengu_ had apparently helped him that far, but had dropped him outside the temple barriers.

"We will help you- but in the morning." Kyoko said firmly. "Naka river is quite far away from here."

"My family-", the kappa cried.

"We will help them. But going now will endanger us all." She turned to go back. "Be careful not to spill anymore water."

* * *

The next day, the siblings recruited the help of their grandfather- who allowed them to go with his blessings. Ryohei, a young priest of the temple accompanied them.

The group of four set out early for their destination, armed with flax seeds and a sickle.

As soon as they neared the river, they saw a small congregation of villagers near a hut.

Ryohei went to investigate.

"The _Suiko_ has been killed by the villagers," he said on returning. The kappa- he called himself Sui- gasped.

"Are you certain?" he asked weakly from his perch on Kai's back.

He nodded.

"Great! What are we waiting for then? Let's go! I can see the river."

"Wait Kai!" Kyoko called out, running to follow him.

They came to a halt as they saw a small group of kappa near the riverbank.

A joyous chorus went up among the remaining kappa. Kai lowered Sui to the river, finally helping him fill his saucer.

Turned out, Sui had gone to them as a back-up plan. They were planning for a few days to get rid of the cruel _oyabun_ and it had finally succeeded the previous night.

* * *

"-and kappa being the polite creature they are, promised to protect our shrine in return for the help we provided." Kai finished his story and reached for Souta's water bottle.

"Still doesn't explain why we shouldn't have adventure," groused Souta.

Kai gulped down the water and wiped his mouth. "Are you stupid? The _Suiko_ are very dangerous. They kill people by drinking their blood. And to kill one of them requires a corpse of its victim."

They stared at him, dumb-founded.

Nagisa said in a small voice. "Wow, that does sound dangerous."

Nao snorted. "You basically didn't do _anything._ Just returned a kappa to their home."

Kai leapt up, pointing his finger at them indignantly. "Well, excuse me if not all adventures are slaying dragons and saving princesses." He turned around, walking towards their school building, nose in the air. "And I'll be going since none of you appreciate me." He added aggressively. "Bye."

They stared at his retreating back and Nao looked away guiltily.

"What are you talking about?"

All of them whipped around to come face to face with Kyoko, who was standing behind them in her _miko_ uniform, hand clasped behind her back and a smile on her face.

"Oh, Kyoko onee-san!" Nao exclaimed. "Didn't notice you there!"

The older girl smiled. "Hello, everyone. Where did Kai go off in such a hurry."

"Ah- about that!" Souta smiled sheepishly. "We might have dissed his summer adventure."

"What adventure?"

"You know the one with kappa?" Nagisa said, brows furrowed.

"Really." Kyoko deadpanned. "He did not set foot outside the compound the entire vacation and he went on an adventure, you are saying?"

"But the kappa-"

Kyoko rolled her eyes. "One of our ancestors saved a kappa from dying. Not Kai, and certainly not in the last summer."

* * *

Needless to say, they didn't find Kai for the rest of the day.

* * *

Name: Yuki Suou

House: Slytherin

Year: Six

Standard: kappa

Word count: 1250


	9. Birthday

**Birthday**

 ** _Summary:_** _Help comes from unexpected sources, sometimes,from time travellers._

* * *

"-oh and one last thing. Tom, do you mind staying back?"

Tom fought back a grimace. He was looking forward to more research on Soul Magick after the last class before Christmas. He waved away the curious looks of his followers and got up to meet their Care of Magical Creatures professor. Plastering a pleasant smile on his face, he carefully shrugged off the snide smiles of his housemates.

 _They will pay._

Tom studied the professor as he waited for her to finish collecting her things. Professor Luna Evans was a frail thing, a blonde, petite figure. The way she moved - no, more like fluttered around- reminded him of a fae, with a grace that seemed impossible. She was a competent teacher, though. Tom had dismissed her at the first glance, when she had first appeared at the beginning of the session.

 _Before her usual airy gaze turned into sharp icy steel as her_ BlueBluEBlue _eyes focused on him._

"Here!" Tom looked down to see her outstretched hand. His lips thinned as he extended his palm towards her.

A butterbeer cork necklace was placed on his palm.

Tom had rarely felt the range of emotions he experienced while he was with Professor Evans. Right then, it was exasperation, bewilderment and not a little bit of irritation.

But he stayed true to his facade and accepted the _gift_ with a cordial smile. His thanks came out more as a question though.

She beamed at him. "Happy birthday in advance, Tom."

Tom's hand stopped abruptly, his smile dropping from his face as his eyes widened a fraction. "How did you know?" his voice tightened.

Professor Evans just gave him her usual absent-minded smile. "Everyone deserves to be happy on their birthday."

 _Happy? HAPPY?_

Tom couldn't stop the harsh laughter that escaped his lips. _Happiness?_ What would _she_ know? _She_ was always happy, did she even _know_ what pain meant? _She_ wasn't the one who was fated to be abandoned and forgotten - though he doubted she would even care.

"Everyone has their own scars. They deserve to be loved despite those."

And that unnatural intensity was back in her eyes.

Tom snarled, going for his wand. He wanted to kill her, Merlin he had never hated someone more- not Dumbledore, not the Matron, not-

 _Damn her._

* * *

Tom stared at the fire dancing merrily. The strange, greenish shadow mocked him and the tightly gripped wand in his hand.

 _Her soft, scarred hands touched his._

 _Conviction was clear on her face._

" **You** _deserve to be loved."_

She had stared at him as if- as if-

 _She honestly cared about him. Cared enough to remember_ his _birthday when his own mother had abandoned him. As if his birth was anything but a sorry affair._

That was the first time anyone had wished him happiness for _his_ _birth_ genuinely. And her eyes were so honest- she had stared at him without fear, without revulsion, without hatred-

He had failed to cast the spell on her.

" _Let it go, Tom. Let it go."_

The grip on his wand loosened.

Tom Riddle clutched the butterbeer cork necklace.

 _His first gift._

He would postpone his research for one day.

Xxxxx

Name: Yuki Suou

House: Slytherin

Year: Six

Drabble: "Birthday"

Special restriction: Same character used by all members- Tom Riddle.

Words: 534

Beta: Naela


	10. Leo and Ursa Minor

**Leo and Ursa Minor**

 _ **Summary:**_ _Since apparently, reincarnation as a sentient castle was an actual thing._

* * *

Reincarnation was a curious thing.

It wasn't an abrupt change for her- rather, her consciousness was a slow ebb and flow- she preferred the calm, quiet of sleep (if it could be called that) rather than staying awake.

Meanwhile, her awareness started to grow- slowly, gradually- till one day, she just couldn't stay asleep.

It was a soft brush at first.

Then it began to grow incessantly.

Till it became a poke.

And it refused to go away.

Grumbling, she tried to swat away the feeling but she had to give it to them, they were persistent. There was a gasp and finally, she was just unable to sleep anymore.

 _And that was how she met the Founders of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry._

Since, apparently, waking up as a sentient castle was an actual thing.

* * *

"You mean to tell me that you are the personification of Hogwarts?" Regulus Black asked, looking at her skeptically from his perch in the Astronomy Tower.

The almost transparent girl- (woman?) in front of him huffed. "For the millionth time, _yes!_ Weren't you listening?" The spectre crossed her arms, rolling her eyes.

"Are you sure you are not a ghost?" He was still not convinced.

"Then I would have been visible to everyone else! Like, you know, Nick or Baron?" She said, waving her arms around wildly. "Have you seen anyone else reacting to my presence? Have you?" She stood nose to nose with him. "Have you?"

That he had to accept. The ghost like apparition was trailing him for the past few months, unseen by anyone else. He had first noticed her cackling gleefully at some successful pranks before she had made some motions with her hands, stopping the students from getting injured heavily. Then her gaze had found him-

And well, what was the saying- rest was history.

He still wasn't dismissing the fact that she was a figment of his stressed mind.

"You totally thought that I'm imaginary, didn't you?" Regulus raised his eyebrow at the correct guess. "Well you should be honoured that you can see me! Not everyone can, you know? Not even Dumbly!"

Regulus almost choked at the nickname but managed to even out his expression at the last moment. If what she claimed was true, she must have seen the Headmaster since he was a little boy as well.

"I would respect you, maybe, if you didn't look like a truant schoolgirl." He pretended to look her up and down before shaking his head. "No, no sign of any wise old lady whatsoever."

He hid his smile at her indignant cry of "Hey, I can't control what I look like!" and continued on his way to the dungeons.

He would never say it out loud, but he was glad that he was the only person in the school to see her.

 _Being the spare heir of the family and an underdog of his house could become tiring._

* * *

"So, you are still here?"

She beamed at him. "Of course! Where would I go? Awwww, did you miss me?"

"I did not!" He whispered fervently, before closing the book. Returning the book to its place, he walked out of the library, the girl in tow.

She made a motion of patting his head. "There now, it has only been a few days."

The raven-haired boy stilled under her palm, before asking carefully, "How long exactly?"

She stared at him for a few moments before guessing, "Err, about ten days?"

His expression grew even more solemn after that. "It has been a year." Then he added in a quieter tone, "I thought you were-", he swallowed, " _not_ real."

The usual mischievous grin faltered. "I- uh- that long?" she grimaced and squinted at him. "Is that why you look taller?"

And she was back.

Regulus snorted, not bothering to cover it up. "Not everyone has to live their existence as a dwarf like you."

"Hey, take that back!" she yelled, tripping him. He stumbled and caught himself. Rolling his eyes, he deadpanned. "You are the personification of one of the greatest wizarding schools and you use your powers to trip students." Disapproval oozed off of him.

She shrugged, "It's fun," she paused before adding gleefully, "Wait, does that mean you aren't an ickle firstie anymore?"

Regulus sighed. He was regretting missing her.

* * *

"HEY!"

Regulus suppressed a wince and after a few moments, excused himself from his dorm mates. He saw her peering up at the mantelpiece in their common room. She beamed at him as soon as he descended the stairs.

"Follow me, I'll show you something cool!"

Her visits had become more frequent after the one year gap and he didn't mind it.

He followed her obediently to a deserted hallway, their explorations never failing to amaze him. Despite her verbal tics and all her quirkiness, he appreciated the only _genuine_ person in his life.

He didn't bother to hide the look of awe on seeing the Room of Requirement.

He really liked the look of accomplishment on her face.

* * *

"Did you know we have a werewolf as a student?" he asked, trying and failing to appear nonchalant.

"You mean Remus?" she asked, swinging her legs from her perch atop the Astronomy tower.

He looked up at her. "You don't mind?"

She scoffed. "Why would I? A magical child is a magical child." She pointed her finger at him. "Don't be a judgemental prick."

"Language!" he admonished. He furrowed his brows. "But they are dangerous!"

She jumped down and landed in front of him. "Say, what do you think about insane people?"

Regulus tilted his head, looking at her pensively before realization dawned on him. "It's a condition- that they have no hand in?"

She smiled at him, like she did everytime he somehow managed to please her. "Exactly! Same goes for muggleborns, you know?" She stared at him, for once fully serious. "Hogwarts is a haven for all magical children who wish to learn and grow. There is no place for discrimination." She looked away, focussed on something that he couldn't see. "They would have been so disappointed, you know?"

* * *

"It's alright to cry when you are sad. People who say crying is weak are stupid and mean with non-functioning brain cells-"

"I get it." He cut her off, voice dry. "How did you know I was sad?"

She gestured with her hands, "You are practically radiating sadness! Right now, you can give a squonk a run for their money."

The sound that came out was half laughter, half sob. "He left. He just- he abandoned our _family."_

She seemed to know who he was talking about.

"Follow me."

Sometime later, after overcoming a few quite dangerous obstacles he found himself standing deep below the castle. There was a pillar standing in the middle, a few shining crystals surrounding it in a pentagram like shape. Runes that he couldn't even begin to comprehend covered the whole thing and his breath caught in his throat.

Fireflies lit up the whole place, the only source of light except the glowing crystals.

"This is my core," she muttered, voice strangely soft. "You are the only person except the Founders to know of this place."

He bit his lip, understanding the gesture for what it was. "Thank you."

Then he cried. And cried.

Till the tears ran dry.

"Know that _all_ the students to ever walk in these halls are my family." Her eyes were misty. "But you, somehow, with all your weirdness, have become my favourite."

His answering laugh was genuine. "Pot, kettle."

She grinned. "Anytime you want to meet me, come here, I keyed you to the wards. I'll wake up."

Later in the evening when they were once again sitting on the Astronomy Tower, gazing at the stars, she said, "You know, words are powerful." At his blank look, she deadpanned. "You Blacks are absolutely hopeless at communicating. He misses you too. You should just talk."

She laughed at his affronted expression. "Yes, Reggie, talk. Not just sneer and grunt. It works wonders!"

He shoved her.

She erupted into peals of laughter.

* * *

"Oh my, how time flies," she said, pretending to wipe off a tear. "The ickle firstie has passed all his NEWTs with such great marks! Bravo!"

Regulus rolled his eyes. "Aren't you even a little bit sad to see me go?"

She winked at him cheekily. "Not if those plans for returning as a Hogwarts professor is true!"

He reddened. "How in the name of Merlin did you know that?"

"I know everything," she smirked. "Come back soon!"

* * *

Regulus clasped his trembling hands together as he once again stood in front of the core of Hogwarts.

"You've returned!" She emerged, voicing her happiness.

Her expression changed in a matter of seconds.

"HOW DARE YOU!" She screamed and rushed at him, hands forming a fist. "How _**could**_ you, Regulus Arcturus Black, how _**could you**_?"

He stopped her gently, her hands shaking, she was a bit more solid than the last time. He uncovered his forearm as her glare intensified.

"I joined the Death Eaters to stop them. To stop _him_." He clasped her hands. "I'm the new DADA professor. He thinks that I'm working for him-"

"He is a Legilimens- he will kill you!"

Regulus laughed, but it lacked any humour. "The Blacks are not known for their proficiency with Mind Arts for nothing. Don't worry, I'll be safe."

Her lips trembled. "Tom Riddle." She blurted out. "His name is Tom Riddle."

Regulus' eyes widened. He nodded, "I'll keep that in mind."

She caught his sleeve as he turned to go. "He was last person who could see me. Before you." She stared straight into his eyes, searching for something. "I- I let him down. Please stop him. Please."

He froze. His fingers brushed over hers, a silent promise.

"I will. I promise, Polaris."

She blinked. "Polaris?"

He looked around, avoiding her eyes. "I have never called you by anything. And Hogwarts doesn't sound right."

"Why Polaris?" She tilted her head.

"Because you gave me direction and purpose."

Her smile was breathtaking.

* * *

"I found it! I found it!"

Polaris awakened abruptly.

"Wha- huh? Reggie?"

His hair was askew, clothes were crinkled and it looked like he hadn't slept for days.

"Are you alright? What happened to you?" She asked, anxiously fluttering around him.

" _He_ has made a Horcrux."

Her movements stopped abruptly. "You have found it? The Diadem in the Room of Requirement?"

Regulus froze. "What do you mean?"

Polaris sighed. She had a lot of explaining to do.

* * *

Dumbledore was their best bet.

Polaris only vaguely remembered the outlines of a story she had read centuries ago, a lifetime ago. She could help- but the old coot was refusing to believe her.

"The nerve of that privileged idiot!" She fumed. "Who does he think he is? Just because he can't see me- he has the gall to call me imaginary?"

"Professor, she isn't taking your _suggestion_ well." Regulus mediated.

"Ah, my boy, you do realize that it is hard to believe? Her existence has been proved to so few- according to her, some proof maybe-"

"Proof? I'll give him proof! As if I don't remember him shoving his tongue down the throat of Perseus Black in the third floor corridor before he became infatuated with Grindelwald? I'll show him proof, that wrinkled old prune-"

Regulus coughed. "Sir, uh, she is saying something about Perseus Black and third floor corridor-"

Dumbledore choking on his lemon drops was a glorious sight.

( _Or maybe, it was her laughter_.)

* * *

Dumbledore believed her instantly after that.

She told them everything she knew.

A complex tracking charm revealed the presence of the rest of the Horcruxes.

She provided them with enough warning, specially Regulus.

Plans and contingencies for even their back up plans were made.

And then she gazed at the stars, found Polaris and Regulus and waited.

( _He had promised he will return._

 _And she had believed.)_

* * *

House: Slytherin  
Year: Six  
Category: standard , bonus restriction: No repeat of prompts in house.  
Prompt: Marauders era.  
Word count: 1995

A/N: Thanks to guest for reviewing.

This one is my favourite till now and I would really love a few opinions regarding this.

So please?


	11. Chicken Curry

**Chicken curry**

 _ **Summary:**_ _Parvati liked being compared to her grandmother. Not in that situation though._

"No, no- that's not how you cut the potatoes for curry, Parvati! Here give it to me!"

Parvati looked up, startled. The knife dropped from her hands and she jumped back, barely avoiding the hit.

" _Ma_!" she exclaimed, clutching her chest.

"Oh sorry, here," the older woman bent down to pick it up. She then looked at the potatoes critically.

"No, see, you are not supposed to cut it in cubes, it should be in halves," she said, before demonstrating.

Parvati sucked in a deep breath. "Ma, we are not cooking chicken curry."

She smiled. "Of course we are! Today is Sunday, your father loves it!"

Biting her lips together, she willed the tears to not fall. "Here, give the knife to me- I'll make it."

Anuradha shook her head. "It is alright. Feels like I haven't cooked for you in forever."

Parvati watched her mother peel and cut the potatoes and move around the kitchen effortlessly, gathering the ingredients. It was her domain, after all. Taking out the chilli powder and turmeric powder from the cabinet, she looked around confusedly. "Where is the chicken?'"

Parvati crossed the distance and relieved her of the containers. "Oh, I've kept them aside to marinate- just a few minutes before. Why don't you wait in your room till they have been prepared?"

The wrinkles became more prominent in the lady's face as she beamed. "Oh, right! You have already set to marinate it, haven't you? Alright, call me when it's time."

She moved out of the kitchen and Parvati watched till she disappeared into her room. She sagged against the counter and sighed.

She slowly made way to her sister's room and knocked.

"Come in," came the tired and muffled voice of the other Patil.

Parvati held on to the doorknob for a few moments before actually opening it. As she entered the room, her vision was engulfed by darkness.

"Lumos," she heard her sister mutter.

At the indirect permission, she switched on the lights. She couldn't bother to give any reaction at the state of the usually tidy room- torn curtains, broken furniture, ripped bedshit- and Padma lay on the bed, wand in hand, staring at nothing.

Parvati sat down beside her sister. "Ma wanted to cook chicken curry."

Padma jerked, the trance breaking. She slowly rose, till she was facing her twin. "She finally comes out of the room and pulls this?" she asked, voice hoarse from prolonged disuse.

Parvati looked at her harshly, "Give her a break- she isn't in her right mind."

"And who is?" Padma suddenly screamed. "Me? You? We lost him- we both lost him as well, Parvati!" Her voice choked. "We fought in that stupid war and we lost _Baba_ -"

"I know!" Parvati hissed out.

"Do you?" Padma was on a roll. "What a family- father is dead, mother is in refusal and you are not much better, are you? You pretending everything is alright is not going to make it go away! We should have never fought in that war!"

"They would have targeted our family either way. At least we are not _all_ dead." Parvati rose up, knocking away the lamp- or what remained of it- in her haste. "Don't try to pin the blame on her, she was tortured too." She turned to glare at her sister. "I'm going to the market."

"You can't!" Padma exclaimed. "This- it is _asauch!_ You are not going to cook meat now!"

But Parvati was already gone.

Xxxxx

"It is delicious," Anuradha said. "It tastes just like your _nani's_ cooking."

Parvati's smile was strained. Padma had refused to come out of her room, so it was just her and their mother. The dining table was too empty.

"Thanks _Ma_."

"When is your father going to come?" she enquired.

"He'll be late," she said.

Anuradha never noticed that her daughter's plate was empty.

Just like her eyes.

Xxxxxx

House: Slytherin

Year: Six

Drabble: Curry

Words: 649.

Xxxx

 _Ma-_ mother

 _Baba-_ father

 _Asauch-_ time of "ritualistic impurity" after the death of a family member. Includes but not limited to- not leaving the house for 11/13 days (till the last rites), not shaving it cutting nails, not cooking or eating only boiled veg dishes- differs in different community."

 _Nani-_ grandmother.


	12. Of Friendships and Betrayals

**Of Friendship and Betrayals**

 _ **Summary:**_ _No one recognized the signs, not even when it was too late._

i.

If he had to be completely honest, Peter wasn't looking forward to Hogwarts, not really. One look at that many people was enough to make him want to keep sprinting in the opposite direction. But, education was necessary and with mind going haywire with anxiety, he was finally aboard the train.

The train journey was a pleasant ride. The other two occupants of his compartment were two Ravenclaws, engrossed in their own world. They didn't feel the need to pester him and apart from the nod they gave him as acknowledgement, there were no further interactions.

After a boat ride and a wait which had lasted forever, he was finally ready to be sorted and to no one's surprise, (not his, at least) he became a hat-stall.

Mostly, it was because people shared characteristics of more than one house strongly.

In his case, it was the opposite.

"Hmm. . . Not Ravenclaw, the thirst for knowledge isn't enough. Not Slytherin, definitely not ambitious enough."

"What about Hufflepuff?" he asked.

"Loyalty isn't your strongest trait, is it? Do I or do I not put you in Gryffindor? Bravery doesn't exactly define you."

It irked him. Finally after eons of silence from the Hat, he snapped. "Just put me in Gryffindor."

There was something in the Hat's voice he couldn't identify. "So be it."

ii.

He lived with the stereotypical popular boys of his house. James Potter, with his legacy and stupidly good looks and intelligence, Sirius Black, the stereotypical bad boy ( _that_ sorting was one of a kind) and then there was Remus Lupin, the stereotypical good boy who gained enough sympathy due to his mother's chronic illness.

He had known he would be grossly overshadowed, but it was a little hurting and a lot numbing to be so out of league of his peers.

Till one day, he overheard the whispers of the beginning of a prank and he opened his big mouth.

"Why don't you make it so that if they try to remove it magically, the charm would get stronger?"

Black and Potter looked at him with awe and he was promptly dragged in. Remus groaned in the background.

It was his happiest memory.

( _The first and the only time he was actually noticed.)_

iii.

Peter's family was strict.

His father was always working and he didn't have the guts to approach his severe mother- he was used to deal with his own problems since he was a little child.

So he could never tell them how empty he felt, that he didn't and couldn't care- _even if he wanted to-_

-and it hurt. A lot.

Till he was numb.

iv.

Remus Lupin was a werewolf.

Even the most normal boy in the dorm was _special._

James started the mission of becoming an Animagus and for a moment, he was bitterly jealous of the sandy haired boy.

Peter had joined the Marauders before him, yet he was the one who was always cast aside.

( _He wondered, not for the first time, would they do the same for him?)_

 _(He did not want to recognize the answer he got.)_

v.

Peter was an average student. He did not understand stuff as brilliantly as Sirius did or as instinctively as James did. He wasn't particularly as hard-working as Remus, but what he had in spades was discipline and patience.

So he watched his friends getting the animagus form right and toiled.

( _Some part of him was glad that they were paying him a bit more attention- but he was afraid, afraid that they would leave him behind.)_

Till he got it right.

He had never hated himself more.

vi.

Peter watched from the ground as his _friends,_ even Remus, soared and soared but he stayed stuck to the firm ground.

He hated himself for being happy when James stopped talking to Sirius after the Snape incident.

He hated all of them when James welcomed Sirius into his family after the latter was disowned by his own.

( _Why didn't anyone care for him like that?)_

 _(Why couldn't_ he _love himself even a bit?)_

vii.

The Marauders joined the Order after their graduation.

He didn't want to, he hated the war, he was afraid of dying, he wanted to run far, far away with his ailing mother and live a normal life.

It was their fault.

( _He had neither the means nor the connections to flee.)_

So, he stayed.

He saw amazing wizards fought and fought and lost.

He might have been average, but he knew a losing side when he saw one. He couldn't contribute much either, always sidelined, always forgotten.

He despaired and took the tough decision.

He would become a spy.

 _(He never stood a chance against Voldemort's sweet, toxic words and promises.)_

viii.

His own mother looked at him with hatred.

"I knew you were a fool, but to join _him?"_

"I only did that to protect you!"

"Who are you really protecting?"

She died shortly after that.

ix.

He was overjoyed when the Potter's selected him as the secret keeper.

( _A small part him felt warm- warmth he had already forgotten he had ever felt-)_

He would give up being a Death Eater.

( _-the cynical part warned him-)_

". . . they would suspect Sirius, not you Pete." James mentioned, as a-matter-of-factly.

Oh.

Oh.

 _Oh._

 _(-and he realized-)_

"Sure, no problem," he grinned.

(- _his heart had already shattered-)_

Their newborn gurgled and the couple stared at Harry with so much love.

 _ **He hated every part of it.**_

x.

"I am the secret-keeper, My Lord," he kneeled before the lunatic.

The beast smiled.

The clock read 08:29.

Xxxxxx

House: Slytherin

Year: Six

Standard: Peter Pettigrew, 08:29 pm.

Word count: 956.


	13. Insanity is the new black

**Insanity is the new black**

 _ **Summary:**_ _A photojournalist experiences the insanity that is the British Wizarding World._

* * *

"Come here! You have to meet her!"

Selena's interest, if it wasn't before, is noticeably piqued now. She lifts her mug of butterbeer to her lips and turns to the source of the exclamation.

A round-faced, tall man is excitedly talking to his friends, a good percentage of whom seem to be red-heads. The only two exceptions are a curly-haired witch and a quite fetching, bespectacled man with wild hair. The latter, who replies with a half-hearted "Is that so, mate?" is immediately demoted from attractive to troll in her scale. What was with _that_ reaction?

This is why she finds the British counterpart of their culture a bit _eccentric._ One of their friends is excited about them meeting his girlfriend and this is how they react? At least the handsome hunk gives some reply. The rest of them either snickers or goes back to what they were doing.

She chugs down her mug. Honestly, what is she expecting? These people still wear _robes_ like they never went out in fashion. And their school curriculum is still so sub-standard that British magicals have difficulty finding a job outside their homeland.

Don't even get her started on their Ministry. What kind of Ministry pushes _teenagers_ forward to fight their wars? She shivers, thanking all her magical ancestors that MACUSA isn't like British MoM. The amount of paperwork she had to submit as a traveling photojournalist was the most ridiculous she has seen till now.

By the time she finishes her butterbeer, the excited man is already sitting down with his friends and gesturing articulately. Some nod, others just politely stare with a vacant expression. She surreptitiously glances at their table and orders herself a treacle tart. Rolling her eyes at their insensitivity, she tries to listen harder. A smile crosses her face as the young man's face light up. Ah, young love. She wonders whether someone will ever talk about _her_ like that. She sighs.

Well, a girl can wish.

Selena casts a wandless _Tempus_ and winces at the time. She really should be going - her appointment at Gringotts' is drawing close. She also wants to know the conclusion of the meeting - she wants to tell the girl that she was so _lucky_ \- but that would be out of bounds.

She can't hear their words anymore, but from his body language, it seems that the girl is just outside of their haunt, near the entrance of Diagon Alley.

"So, you guys coming?" He smiles, face glowing.

Various groans rise from the other table - she almost punted them to Amazonia. _Morgana they are so rude_. But they ultimately rise to follow their friend.

 _Good,_ she thinks viciously. _They better not let the cinnamon roll down._

Gulping down the last bit of her treacle tart, she quickly pays Tom, thanking him for the food. Then she follows the crowd like she too is about to go to Diagon Alley which she was, and peers around the gaggle of redheads to see-

"Is that a _Septopas_?" Her wand is already out. "That plant can eat a Kneazle and when it grows for a couple of centuries it can eat even a human! Are you INSANE?" She is ready to light the monstrosity on fire when the bushy-haired _sensible_ woman is already doing it.

Everyone breathes a collective sigh of relief as the daft man pouts. "But it would have taken a couple of centuries, like you said," he mumbles.

"Shut up, Neville! Stop trying to bring a cannibalistic plant home!" Redhead Number. 1, the one with freckles shouts.

She wholeheartedly agrees.

"But is it cannibalism when it eats human?" Redhead Number 2 muses.

Selena looks away from Redhead Number 1, whose face is rapidly starting to match his hair, and right into a pair of brilliant emerald eyes looking at her sympathetically.

 _Wow,_ she thinks, _British wizards are weird._

* * *

 **House/Team- Snakes,**

 **Class Subject- CoMC,**

 **Story Category- Drabble,**

 **Prompt-** Come here! You have to meet (him/her/Name)

 **Word Count- 645**

* * *

 **A/N:** Septopas is courtesy of one of my fav Indian writers, Satyajit Ray. He is The Boss.


	14. Through the lens

**Through the lens**

 _ **Summary:**_ _Photographers notice a lot of things normal people don't._

* * *

 **Day 1:**

I'm on the train to Hogwarts, I still can't believe it! The train is totally amazing! It is like those ones from the old movie, with steam coming out in front but a lot more colors! Its red, like Gryffindor colours- Gryffindor is one of the four houses in Hogwarts. It's for the brave and such, do you think I will get sorted in that house? I don't think so- I'm not really brave. I hope it's not Slytherin, they don't like people like us to be there.

But do you know what was the best part? Running through the walls! Yes, we had to run through the walls to get to the station, how awesome is that? Some people just walked but most of them ran straight through- it was fun! I even got a great picture- a person was halfway through- it took a few tries though, to get it right. I'll have to develop it as soon as I get to the castle.

I was wishing to see Harry Potter, but I heard he and his best bud Ron was not on the train. Another of his friends was looking around- Hermione Granger, she seemed nice- the train. I asked her whether I could help, but she just smiled sadly and said no.

I'm worried, will they be able to go to school safely?

Ah, the trolley lady is here with food, I'll write later.

 **Day 1, noon:**

The wizards have some really gross sweets here- leaping chocolate frog? It was SO gross and squirmy. The way it still moved after Andrew ate its head- ugh! He said it was delicious but I'm not trying, thank you very much! I like my food to stay still and not wiggle. But they have this nice trinkets with them- magical cards- Andrew's mum doesn't like them though, so he said he will give those to me.

Don't even get me started on those Bertie Botts Every Flavour Bean. When people think every, they generally think everything edible. Who makes earwax and booger flavoured stuff? Don't they have food regulations? I don't even want to try the blood flavoured candies or cockroach something.

Wizards are so weird.

I liked the pumpkin pasties and cauldron cakes though.

But, but, BUT- you know what I found out? Moving pictures! Yes, I'm not dreaming, wizards have moving pictures! Those magical cards from chocolate frogs(still gross)- are not the exceptions, they can really make moving pictures! It's like little videos but in a frame! I **HAVE** to learn how to make them. As soon as I'm in Hogwarts, I'm going to the library.

Moving pictures! Do they use different solvents? Different camera? Different developing techniques? I only have this old camera that Dad said belonged to Mum- she also loved taking pictures! Anyway, I have to learn how to make them, I got to show them to Dennis. George said that it was rare for both the brothers from muggle family to be wizards so I have to show Dennis everything!

Ah the guys are playing something called Exploding Snaps. They don't know much about photographs, but they promised to help me out. I'll write later.

 **Day 1, evening:**

We were greeted by Hagrid when we got down from the train- he is HUGE! I want to hug him, don't know how he will react. Then we were on these little boats. Andrew, George and a blonde girl who introduced herself as Luna sat on the same boat as me. Everything here is so photogenic- the first view of our school was magical. She looked so beautiful that I almost fell from the boat trying to get the perfect shot. This ride was only for the first year students- so I'll never get to see the view again.

I couldn't _not_ get the perfect shot!

Luna said that there was a Giant Squid named Kraken in the lake who saved students from drowning but I'm not trying that. The camera will be damaged in water.

Now that I'm sitting in the Gryffindor dining table and writing this stuff, Sorting doesn't seem scary. I was so worried that Mr. Sorting Hat would say it was a mistake sending me a letter but he had just laughed and shouted Gryffindor. He said I would be a good Hufflepuff too!

Oh, oh I talked to a ghost! I wasn't scared at all, believe it!

The food here is soooooooo good by the way, it deserves that many o's! How do they prepare so much food? We're waiting for dessert. Oh, the scary looking Potions professor and Professor Mcgonagall is leaving? Wonder what that's about.

And the desserts are here! (Thank God no chocolate frogs!)

I still didn't see Harry Potter.

 **Day 1, Night:**

I just finished writing a letter to Dad and Dennis about the day I had. I'll go to the Owlery tomorrow to post it. I'm in the Gryffindor common room now, the only other one here is Granger, Harry Potter's second best friend. She is studying and looks serious, so I don't bother her.

Uncle Sam looks that serious while reading too and he gets real cross if we bother him during that time.

I finally saw Harry Potter and he just looks so _**normal.**_ Nothing like the books said he is like. He is definitely not arrogant, he rather looked like he wanted to hide when his mates were cheering him for riding a flying car to school. He did not look like the type of boy to do it for fun- he looks so exhausted. And thin.

I wonder whether he is alright.

Never mind, I'll keep an eye on him.

* * *

 _Tears gathered in his eyes as he turned the pages. Words, photographs- moving and non-moving- stared back at him, regret hitting him like a hippogriff. He finally reached the last page._

* * *

 **May 1, 1998.**

Heard the Death Eaters are going to attack Hogwarts tomorrow. I might not go there anymore, but Hogwarts will always be my school. Those of us who were thrown out will be joining the resistance at school. The chances of winning are low, but there is hope yet. I'm going to take my camera as well, so that no Death Eater can get away scot-free after the war- in case we win. I- I'm scared- but this is what Harry went through every year, this is what he taught us.

Hope they are ok.

Dennis, Dad, in case you are reading this- it means I'm already dead. Can you please give it to Harry after the war ends? I'll tell him myself if I live, but something tells me otherwise.

Harry, I have always believed in you, no matter what. So, whatever happens in the battle, please don't blame yourself. You've done more than enough.

So, _**THANK YOU**_.

* * *

 **House/Team- Snakes,**

 **Class Subject- CoMC,**

 **Story Category- Standard,**

 **Prompt-** First Day at a Wizarding School

 **Word Count- 1144**


	15. Different

**Different **

_**Summary:**_ _Acceptance goes a long way in helping a person. AU elements. Suggestion from a tumblr prompt._

* * *

Harry enjoyed being a teacher.

True, when he was in school, he had written Auror as his first choice of profession, but as time went by, he decided he quite liked the expressions on people's faces as they finally understood something. It had started when he had taught the DA and he _was_ a natural-born tutor. The appeal of spreading knowledge might have been a trait he acquired from Hermione, though.

He glanced at the letter in his hand, double-checking the name of one "Miss Alex Mason" and the address and located the right house. It was a quaint, calm neighborhood. His instincts were warning him though, from the amount of church-going people he had met on his way, he was dreading his reception.

Wouldn't be the first time witchcraft was seen as evil incarnate.

Harry knocked, waiting patiently till a plump, red-faced woman with a tight bun opened the door.

"Yes?" she asked, impatience clouding her features.

Harry smiled brightly. "Hello, I'm Harry Potter, a professor from Hogwarts School. I assume you've received the letter, Mrs. Mason?" He glanced around before adding, "It would be better if we take this inside."

Harry winced internally. From the tightening of her hand on the doorknob to narrowing of eyes - great, it would be one of 'those' families. The woman nodded stiffly and allowed him to enter before hollering for "Adam"- presumably, Mr. Mason.

Harry took a deep breath. It was going to be one _long_ conversation.

* * *

Turned out, it wasn't such a long conversation at all. The Masons were not ready for sending their daughter to a magical school - _what a travesty in the name of God -_ but as soon as he explained the concept of an Obscurus, the couple were ready to wash their hands of of her.

Harry saw red, especially when he found the child peeking fearfully from behind one of the rooms. Years of suppressed memories slammed into him, leaving his hands shaking.

He got up and said, "You are willing to write off your own daughter to a stranger?"

Their expressions darkened. "That freak is no child of ours."

Harry pushed the shimmering rage deep inside. He ignored the couple and approached the quiet child - not unlike one might approach a small, spooked animal - and knelt in front of - wait, the kid was a boy?

He cleared his throat and offered him his hand. "Hello Alex. Would you like to come with me to Hogwarts? I can't offer you much, but I can definitely assure you that it would be a _home."_ He finished quietly.

The child - Merlin, his expression was bringing back things he would rather forget - looked at him, his eyes searching his face for something. Then he looked over his shoulders to his _parents -_ if they could be called that - before taking his hand.

"Home?" He asked tentatively.

Harry smiled, "Home."

He left, hand in hand with the abandoned child before informing the _parents (_ if they could be called that) that they will receive the adoption papers by the end of the week.

* * *

Alex didn't know what to expect when a normal-looking man in glasses came to visit them. They had received the letter two days ago and things had been tense since then. Well, tenser, since being freaky was not a new occurrence in the family.

It still hurt a lot when they agreed to the man's proposal without even thinking about it twice.

Alex looked at the man's eyes - Harry, he reminded himself - and saw a flash of understanding. That was what decided the next course of action.

Well, it couldn't get any worse than your biological family hating you enough to abandon you.

So, when they had apparated - a form of magical transportation - to Diagon Alley and Harry apologized to Alex for the mistake in the form of addressal, Alex confided in him.

"I'm a girl."

That was it, that was the moment it would become apparent whether or not she would be accepted, whether or not she would be abandoned once again - she didn't want to wait till a person was already accepted in her heart to throw her away again.

A hand landed on her head and she looked through her blurry eyes - _when did she start to cry -_ a smile and -

Acceptance.

* * *

Alex was constantly being surprised by the amount of acceptance and love that she was getting. Harry - Uncle Harry - was not the exception. His wife, Aunt Ginny, also took the whole news in stride and just barked at him to get clean, they would be going shopping later. She tried to dissuade her, citing her pregnancy, but the glare she received in return was enough to shut both Uncle Harry and her up.

And for the first time in her entire life, she got to wear clothes that she had always wanted to wear. And more.

And they asked for nothing in return.

When she had asked them, Uncle Harry had just smiled sadly. "I had someone do the same thing for me. My circumstances were a bit different though. And I wish you to do the same for someone in return when you are old enough. Nothing more, nothing less."

She couldn't resist hugging them both.

* * *

Thankfully, the Hufflepuff house didn't have dormitories, it had individual rooms for everyone, all adjusted to their personal preferences. It was the most closely guarded secret of their House, other than the secret passageway to the kitchens.

Alex had found out that while wizards were not too judging about gender orientation, quite a part of the population did not actually have negative views regarding the fact. They even had magical rituals that could help change oneself to the body they felt most comfortable in, but that could be consented only after they had come of age.

No one had looked at her weirdly, but she could still make out the sneers some students had, so she wasn't too overwhelmed.

Some things did not change. And she was alright with that.

* * *

"Hey, look! It's freaky Alex!"

"Yeah, he thinks he is a girl."

Alex resisted the urge to shrink away as they were heading to the first Care of Magical Creatures class. She was quite excited for that as she had heard it would be the first time this class was introduced in the First Year.

Hagrid, their Professor, was a lovable giant who was not too well-liked thanks to his love for all animals dangerous, but she liked him. It was supposed to be a surprise class that day and she was looking forward to it.

She ignored the taunts and power-walked to the front of the rows - not many people were keen on that, since it was _Hagrid -_ so she was comparatively safer from the bullies.

And she would be forever grateful for that.

Because the creature they were supposed to study that day?

 _ **Unicorns.**_

Hagrid asked the girls to make a line - unicorns never allowed boys to touch them - there were incidents where they had reacted quite negatively to a male touch and her gut pooled with dread.

Should she try? Yes, she was mentally a girl, but physically?

She- she wasn't sure she could handle the rejection.

"What girly boy not going to try touching one?"

"Huh as if-"

One of them swore an expletive for which Hagrid took points from Gryffindor before he turned to her, his face conflicted.

"Alex, I- er, don't know if they'll allow-"

She took a deep breath and looked into his eyes. "I'll do it."

* * *

She wiped her sweaty palms on her skirt before approaching the unicorn. She had volunteered to go last - _stupid, the whole class was watching her, why did she even try, the Sorting Hat didn't place her in Gryffindor for a reason -_ and stood infront of the beautiful creature. She looked ethereal, silvery gleaming coat from which light reflected, deep and unnaturally intelligent blue eyes and the horn-

She shuddered before stretching her hands out, hands barely away from brushing her coat.

That was it. The moment. When the world will accept her or not.

The unicorn didn't budge.

The jeers in rang louder in her ears, all the insults since childhood coming to the forefront, the glares, the disapproving stares, the whispers, the hurts-

She clenched her eyes shut. Tears pricked at the corner, wails trying to break through her throat.

That was it.

Then, abrupt silence.

A soft brush of wet nose on her palms.

A soft mane.

She opened her eyes to the knowing blue gaze of the unicorn.

And her knees buckled as she wailed.

Soft nose prodded her shoulders.

Alex Mason was a girl.

That was the day the universe accepted it.

* * *

House/Team: Snakes

Class Subject:CoMC

Category: (Drabble or Standard): standard

Prompt(s): [Creature] Unicorn

Word count: 1459


	16. Oddities

**Oddities**

 _ **Summary:**_ _Help comes from unexpected quarters. You just need to ask._

* * *

There was something odd about the young girl who lived in the last house on the street.

That's what her parents said at least. And not only them, it seemed like it was the general consensus in their locality.

Not that Eleanor was in any position to talk like that. She herself was quite an oddball, what with her being able to tell what other people were feeling since she was a toddler. It had saved her quite a few times, but more on that later.

Eleanor had seen her a few times in the neighborhood and found that she quite liked the lady. She had this pretty golden hair and really, really beautiful blue eyes which seemed like they were gazing everywhere and nowhere at the same time and she always smiled. Her fashion sense was odder, to the point that one would wonder whether she even knew what fashion meant- but whatever. To each their own.

Alright, she would admit it. Eleanor _idolised_ the lady and she would love for a chance to talk to her, but she didn't want to bother her.

Anyone who can wear radish earrings in public showed that they didn't care about what society thought of her and it was refreshing in their _proper_ neighborhood.

So, it was just a matter of time before she got into trouble with the other kids.

* * *

She had overheard them making fun of the lady when she was passing through and her insides turned cold when the glimmer in her idol's eyes decreased just a little bit.

"That's rude, Ed!" She glared at the boy.

"But she is so weird- look at her! Who wears cork as necklace?"

The other kids joined him in agreement.

Eleanor bristled. "Oh shut up! At least she is not hurting anyone by being _mean_ and _stupid!"_

Ed did not appreciate being called stupid and did what every eight year old were wont to do as an end-all to arguments- he tried to hit her.

The lady was suddenly there and she had stopped Ed's punch.

"Now that isn't so nice, is it?" She said in her usual airy voice but only Eleanor detected the hint of steel that she never would have associated with the petite lady. "Should I report this to your parents?"

The kids were quick to disperse after that.

The lady- _Eleanor had to learn her name-_ kneeled down in front of her and her usual brightness had been restored again. She breathed a sigh of relief before realizing she was asking her something.

She blinked and replied. "Yeah, I'm fine." Then she blurted out, "I'm Eleanor! It's nice to meet you!"

The lady got up and took her proffered hand and gave her a twirl. "Im Luna, call me Aunt Luna! And thank you for earlier!" Heavens above, her smile was so bright!

Eleanor turned beet-red and nodded.

* * *

Their second meeting was an unfortunate one.

Eleanor was ten years old and had lost track of time at the local library. It was getting late, she was hurrying back home and something was making her uneasy.

As soon as she had turned the corner, she realized it. She was being tailed. By two people. During evening. On a match day, when most of the people were indoors. And from what she felt from those people, they weren't planning anything good for her.

She increased her pace, but the creeps being older, had no problem in matching hers. She walked faster and had almost transitioned into a run- just a few steps and she would be near their house- when they grabbed her.

Hands muffled her scream and she thrashed but they were too strong- _oh m ygod they will kidnap her and kill her-_ when she felt something roar inside her.

The men were thrown to the sides of the alley and she scrambled back, her back hitting-

Aunt Luna?

Gone was the smiling angel and faraway gaze- her back ramrod straight, her eyes cold and cutting and everything about her screamed of danger. Eleanor was pushed behind her and she took out a stick and _lifted the man and slammed them to the ground?_

They groaned and were out like lights. She was pretty sure she heard a few bones snap.

Then the older woman turned and crouched in front of her and her Aunt Luna was back again. No more _coldColdcold_ eyes and the bloodthirsty aura was gone as if it was never there! She touched her face lightly, saying something.

Eleanor smiled weakly.

She heard a few cracks as she fainted.

* * *

Eleanor had never thought she would see her parents crying but there she was. From then onwards, her parents joined her in her pro-Luna movement and she saw her idol more often.

Then she turned eleven and the letter came.

* * *

House/Team: Snakes

Class Subject:CoMC

Category: (Drabble or Standard): Drabble

Prompt(s): [First Line] There was something odd about the young (boy/girl) who lived in the last house on the street.

Word count: 804


	17. Forget-me-not

**Forget-me-not**

 _ **Summary:**_ _Wizards have the habit of creating useless stuff. Neville suffers for that._

* * *

Neville Longbottom was furious.

The round-faced boy glared intently at the offending object sitting on his bed, looking innocent for all its purpose. Except, crimson smoke swirled inside the glass ball with a golden border and Neville, for the life of him, couldn't remember what he had forgotten.

Books? Check.

Parchment? Check.

Quills? Check.

Inkpot? Check.

So why was the blasted ball still red?

He huffed in frustration. As much as he loved receiving any kind of gift from his grandmother, he couldn't help but think that a Remembrall had to be the most useless one.

What was the point of being reminded that he had forgotten something if he didn't have a clue to what it was?

"We're going to be late!" Ron hollered from their Common Room downstairs. "We need to get going, mate!"

"Yeah, yeah, I'm coming," he muttered, swinging his bag over his shoulders and violently pocketing the offending ball.

"One day I'll defeat you. One day," the normally sweet, timid boy swore viciously.

* * *

"Uh, mate, you forgot your robes."

Neville almost spat out his pumpkin juice.

He put his glass down and took a deep breath. Snatching the sandwich out of his plate, he resigned himself for another long trek up those monstrous stairs.

 _At least this is increasing my endurance_ , he thought miserably as he finally reached the portrait of the Fat Lady.

* * *

The Remembrall glowed red.

Neville imagined crushing it under his palm till it was barely recognizable.

"Mr. Longbottom, I believe it is quite irresponsible of you to not bring your assignment to class. I will not be deducting points for this, but please keep it in mind that repeat offenders will not be tolerated."

Neville slowly started to resemble the ruddy ball as Professor Mcgonagall's stern lecture rang in his ears.

* * *

The Remembrall glowed red.

"And here I thought there was a limit to your incompetence," Professor Snape's silky voice did nothing to sooth Neville's tremors. "Just because I mentioned there will be no foolish wand waving in my class, doesn't imply that you can keep it in your trunk. Though, I wonder if that makes you less of a hazard."

* * *

The Remembrall glowed red.

"Uh, Mr. Longbottom, it seems you have forgotten your trousers." Professor Flitwick's hesitant voice called him out.

Neville woke up violently from that nightmare and thanked all the deities that it was just that, a nightmare.

* * *

"This thing is so useless," Neville complained to his housemates, not caring that his voice had taken a distinctly whiny tone to it, as he dumped his study materials on the Common Room table with a thump.

"It's not!" Ron protested vehemently, mouth still full of the chocolate frog he was munching on. "It helped Harry become a Seeker!"

Hermione rolled her eyes before glaring at Ron in disgust. He quickly went back to chewing with mouth closed. She frowned at Neville.

"You are right. If only it could say _what_ you are forgetting, otherwise, it's just a lot of stress." Her mutterings slowly became jumbled as she no doubt became lost in the technicalities of the thing.

Neville wondered once more whether he could just smash the stupid ball.

* * *

On his first birthday after the war, the first birthday gift he received was surprisingly from Hermione.

He stared at the patch of small square papers stacked neatly and joined at one side with some kind of gum.

Neat handwriting appeared on the first page.

"The Remembrall."

He stared at Hermione, who was beaming.

"It is a Magical Sticky Notes, which actually tells you what you have forgotten. Simple charms really, it is the overlaying which is tricky-"

He hugged her.

He sprinted back to grab the bloody thing which had given him a huge headache throughout his school years. Seemed like the final year wouldn't be too bad.

He no longer had the urge to throw it away.

After all, it had survived the war when a lot of things hadn't.

And it did get Harry into the Quidditch team.

The Remembrall glowed red.

"Arrrrgh!" He screamed.

The Magical Sticky Notes read, "Harry's birthday present."

* * *

Word count: 692

House/Team: Snakes

Class Subject:CoMC

Category: (Drabble or Standard): Drabble

Prompt(s): object Remembrall

Credit for MSN idea belong to EriBean!


	18. No one is born a monster

**No one is born a monster**

 _ **Summary:**_ Circumstances change a person, if one can't adapt, they can't survive.

* * *

Life as a bastard pureblood was cruel.

Argus Filch, who would have been an equal member of a prestigious pureblood family in an alternate utopian world had learned that from a very young age. His Ma, a young witch who had been too pretty for her own good, but not " _pure"_ enough had paid for that in more than blood, sweat and tears, never failed to remind him that.

"This world is not kind, Argus. You have to be vigilant, always," she had said one evening. Tanya Filch had had a rare day off and was rocking him on her lap, eyes seeing something he couldn't. "They will destroy fools. Like I had been." She stared into the eyes of a five year old Argus. "Never be a fool. Like me. People are not kind for no reason. Magical, more so."

He didn't remember much from his childhood but that was one conversation that remained imprinted on his mind.

 _Don't trust your own shadow,_ she had said, sitting in their dirty little flat, mind recalling horrors of the past. He had nodded along. He didn't want to burden her more.

* * *

Argus met her when he was seven years old. She was a frail girl, her limbs bony and face gaunt - a typical feature of the street rat. He had first met her when he had noticed her pickpocketing - she had skills, he would admit. The ginger had smoothly completed her job and winked at him. Then he had lost sight of her for a second and she had managed to somehow disappear during that time.

In their next meeting, she approached him. He was running from one of the food stalls owners after he had filched a loaf of bread - _ha, filched-_ because he had seen the hard work taking a toll on his Ma, and still they were starving for two days.

The waif had appeared in front of him suddenly and he had yelped, almost falling on his backside. Then she had winked at him, _again,_ before taking his hand and navigating through the alleys expertly. They managed to lose his tail in a matter of minutes.

"Thanks," he had said stiffly. He clutched his bread hard. After seeing her in action, he didn't trust her near his. . . anything, really.

The insufferable girl just grinned. "Jus' payin' back yer debt," she said waving her hand. "Fer not cryin' out back then."

He nodded.

She continued as if she hadn't seen his gesture. "We street rats need ta look afta' each other. The name's Joey. What's yours?" she asked curiously.

He glared at her and hissed. "I'm not a street rat."

She grinned, looking pointedly at the loaf of bread in his hands. "Sure you aren't."

* * *

That wasn't the last time he would see the girl. Actually, she started popping up frequently after that, much to his chagrin. To the point where Tanya found out

"Who is the girl, Argus?" She asked, suspiciously eyeing the annoying brat, who just waved her hands from where she was sitting on their table and gave her customary wave and introduction.

Argus received a severe tongue-lashing when the idiot let it slip that they had been stealing stuff. Tanya had then looked at the girl straight in her eyes and asked, "Why are you helping him?"

She had shrugged, still munching on the apple they had stolen. "Two heads are better than one. Decreases our chances of gettin' caught."

Tanya had nodded seriously at that, respecting her bluntness.

* * *

Tanya had accepted quite easily that her son had resorted to thieving. That, along with her own efforts had managed to bring regular food to their table. Sometimes Joey dropped in- which was annoyingly startling to become a regular event.

So she started to teach Argus magic, with the logic that triggering accidental magic would somehow be able to save their skin if they were in a pinch. Not that children could properly control magic and wandless magic was hard, but meditation brought some semblance of control. And Argus was nothing if not determined.

It was in one of their sessions that Tanya dropped in. The mother-son duo had panicked before that ginger oaf had just shrugged at their display of levitation.

"I'm magic too," she had said, before turning into a cat and turning back to human.

His mother had blanched and stared at her, recognition dawning on her features. Her eyes narrowed, before asking, "You wouldn't be Greta Norris' daughter now, would you?"

The way the girl had flinched before the fire returned in her eyes and she swore. "Got the curse 'cuz of that damn woman." She promptly turned and left.

That was the day Argus learnt what a Maledictus was.

He didn't see Joey for the next week or so.

* * *

Argus was cold.

It has been a few hours. A few hours since he couldn't feel the warm thrum of magic in his veins. A few hours since _they_ left. A few hours since he had moved.

A few hours since he had been staring at his Ma's cold, dead body.

Argus wasn't sure he would be able to feel warmth anymore.

It was his fault. He had decided to go solo since it had been six days since the uncovering of the secret regarding his thieving partner. Joey still hadn't come back. So he took matters into his own hands and when things went south, his accidental magic had triggered, teleporting him to a safe place.

Unfortunately, it was witnessed by the same family that had abandoned him. He did not know why they were there but as soon as he went home, he found his Ma backed up into a corner with some _high and mighty_ **monsters** invading their home.

One of them turned to him. "So this is the boy you birthed?" The snooty, overweight _noble_ asked.

"Get away from him," his Ma screamed, hands shaking, holding the wand for the first time he had seen in years.

The fat man leered at her, "He didn't get your beauty though. You see, the idiot that bedded got himself killed without leaving any heirs. So, you see our dilemma." He lazily waved around his wand as if to emphasize the words. "What has the world come to, our family having to take in a mud mudblooded bastard-"

"He is never going with you," Tanya thrashed against the hold of one of the men, to no avail. "He is a squib!"

Argus didn't understand how the situation had escalated so quickly. One moment he was standing and the next, his mother had screamed out a red coloured curse- the men dodged - the old man signaled his men and suddenly curses where flying all over, Argus dove for cover and in the next second-

Tanya Filch dropped to the floor.

He let out a howl that had been building in his throat and attacked them- _they had defiled his Ma, they had destroyed their lives and now she was dead-dead-dead-_

The cruel man touched his ring to his forehead and raising his wand, uttered, " A squib? _So mote it be."_

And Argus was cold.

* * *

Joey was the first to find him.

She was the one who informed the neighbor and the police. It was useless though, Aurors came in and wiped everyone's memory. The neighbours and the police realized that Tanya Filch died in a break-in.

The sky was clear on the day the funeral was held.

Joey stood with him the entirety of the event and even after. None of them realized when the sun went down and night fell.

She talked a lot that night. How she hated the wizards, how she hated her curse, how she hated the fact that in a few years she wouldn't be able to see the world through human eyes. But she also talked about the things she loved- the night, the stars, running around with him-

They kissed under the starlight that night.

* * *

Professor Dumbledore looked at the gaunt youth that had come to him for his assistance. He sorrowfully looked at the young girl who was fated to live a cursed life, before shaking his head.

"You are the greatest wizard of all time! That's what they said, that's what everyone said! And _**you**_ can't cure her?" The young man looked very close to resorting to violence but the older wizard could only sigh.

"The Maledictus curse is something that lots of minds, far better than me, had worked on and failed. Magic cannot answer everything. I'm sorry."

The girl, Joey, she had introduced herself smiled, albeit shakily. "It's alright," she said, taking Filch's hand in hers, enclosing his closed fist. "You tried, and you are and will remain my hero. No one has ever bothered till now, so thank you."

Argus found himself missing the days when she had an accent, the time when they ran around together, the time when despite everything, he didn't have a gaping hole in his heart, the time when-

A soft, polite cough turned his attention to the wizard in front of them.

"I can offer you both a sanctuary though. Hogwarts is the safest place on Earth and I do believe she is in dire need of a caretaker. What say you, Miss Norris?"

"Mrs. Norris, actually," she giggled at his quirked eyebrow. "You think I would ever take up a surname which means _stealing?"_

The wizard tried to hide his laughter but failed. Joey continued as if she wasn't interrupted, "And your offer sounds interesting-"

Argus stood up, pulling her to her feet.

"Never," he swore, looking straight into the eyes of the wizard. " _Never._ "

The wizard just smiled serenely.

"The offer will stand."

* * *

Word count: 1626

House/Team: Snakes

Class Subject:CoMC

Category: (Drabble or Standard): standard

Prompt(s): character Argus Filch

Additional Requirement: Standards must be written in the past as a backstory or origin story, rather than a flashback.

Additional: forgotten hero.


	19. Never enough

**Never enough**

 _ **Trigger warning:**_ _Mentions of depression, self-harm._

* * *

 _George panted as he reached the stairs, just a few more steps and he would arrive at the corridor - there, he spotted Percy, Ron, Hermione, Harry and_ Fred- _sweet Merlin- there he was._

 _He couldn't even appreciate Percy's well-timed joke - well, he had to have_ some _Weasley genes in him - instead, focusing on the upcoming part._

 _The tip of his wand glowed blue with the strongest Protego he could muster and as soon as Thicknesse went down, he cast it around the group._

 _The glow of blue dome expanded and it was just in time - the walls next to them exploded - but he had just enough time to shield his eyes because he was running, running toward_ his family, _they were safe, they were alive - all of them and Fred smiled at him - he wished the moment to never end and-_

George Weasley woke up in his bed.

It was one of those days, one of those dreams that he wished would never end and frankly, he couldn't even muster the energy to cry. He touched his face, dried tear tracks already present before letting his hands fall back to the bed.

Five years.

It had been five years since that day. Five years since he saw Percy rage, five years since he heard their Mum's heart-wrenching screams, five years since he heard his brothers sob, five years since Ginny's eyes lost that light and five years since Harry and Fred-

To be honest, he hadn't felt much of anything since that day. True, they had won the war, a war they should never had to fight in the first place. True, Ron, Hermione and Ginny had stood tall in front of Voldemort and defeated him - all rage stricken - but at what cost?

Harry, the kid who had almost become a full Weasley, walked willingly to his death to give them a fighting chance. Remus and Tonks dead, leaving behind another orphan. Colin, hell he should have been safe with his parents, dead. So were a lot of others, Merlin, there were so many children-

And Fred. His brother, his twin, the one with whom he had shared everything from even before his birth was gone. Just gone- within mere seconds. No more pranks, no more inside jokes, no more picking on Ron, no more messing with Mum.

 _At least she doesn't confuse us anymore,_ he thought sardonically.

The Weasley family was the spotlight of the Wizarding World for the next months after the war ended. Everyone wanted to make a pretty dime out of their victory, their sorrow, all the more facilitated by their privacy. Until Ginny stepped up one day, with her scarred face and the hole where her right eye should have been and made them to _back off._

Those sheep had no right to celebrate the victory they had no part in.

Weasley's Wizard Wheezes benefitted from that though, especially the range of anti-PTSD products that George and Hermione worked on day in and day out, forgoing sleep and water. The realization hadn't set in at that time, he had kept on working and working, the numbness not allowing him to feel anything and before he knew it, money was flowing in. The Weasleys were poor no more, Gringotts had quite a lump sum amount of gold in their name.

It was useless. The emptiness never went away, the numbness giving way to rage and hopelessness and sometimes he stood in the crowd, fingering his wand, wondering if it was even worth it. . .

It was never enough - the success of Weasley and Weasley (when the other one wasn't even there to celebrate it with him, just like their benefactor), the spotlight and reverence the Weasleys were finally getting (his left side felt perpetually empty), the accolades, the pity -

It would never be enough.

George ran his fingers over the slender wand, wondering, imagining, hoping -

\- and raised it to his head.

A knock sounded at the door. Ron's raspy voice floated in (he shivered as he thought of the severing charm that barely missed his little brother's throat- just _barely_ ), "Hey, can you open the shop today? I have to help Hermione with the moving."

George dropped the wand from his hand.

"Sure."

* * *

Word count: 708.

House/Team: Snakes

Class Subject:CoMC

Category: (Drabble or Standard): Drabble

Prompt(s): Never enough

Beta: Eribean


	20. Percy Jackson and The Boy-Who-Lived

**Percy Jackson and the Boy-Who-Lived**

 _ **Summary:**_ _Another school year, another quest. Just a normal life for Percy. And Harry._

* * *

Hi, it's me again. Percy, you remember, son of Poseidon, bearer of the worst case of bad luck?

Yep, you do. And I guess you have already started to dread (or anticipate, you all are sadists, you know?) why I am writing again.

You are right. I got handed a stupi- erm, 'awesome, glorious quest'. Again. Like my girlfriend, Annabeth, would say, after hitting me over the head of course, "You should stop tempting Fate, Seaweed Brain."

But you know what's the best part? It was the easiest and least life-threatening of all the other quests I've ever done. Probably because of the adult supervision I had.

I know, I know. 'Adult supervision' in a Demigod quest? Since when was that _ever_ a thing? Or more precisely, why _isn't_ that a thing? We would be much less prone to making moronic decisions that jeopardize our chances of living. (Ha, you see, Annabeth? I can write big words too!)

Anyway, enough on that later. It started something like this-

I was having a normal school year - thank Dad, it's the last one - bad grades thanks to my dyslexia, cliched bullying efforts, annoying teachers - well, except one. He is the one this story is about.

Mr. Potter was our Biology teacher and he was hands down one of the best I've had - just after Chiron. He paid attention to each and every student and he always knew how to handle _everyone._ He looked normal, messy black hair, glasses, oozing awkwardness - but he had this spine of steel that only sometimes came out while dealing with difficult students. Everyone loved him, _everyone,_ even Tom Wilson, the self-proclaimed king of the school. Well, except for Mr. Pickery, our Math teacher, but he hated everyone, so there's that.

But Mr. Potter sometimes had this look in his eyes when he thought people didn't notice and I didn't like that. It was a look that was reflected in the eyes of most of the older kids in the Camp - the ones that had fought in the war.

Today was one of those days. He was standing near a window in the break, staring and I was afraid that - I don't know what I was afraid of. I decided to approach him.

He snapped out of whatever funk he was in as soon as I neared him - proving my previous suspicions - and smiled.

"Hello, Percy. You need anything?" he said in his cool British accent.

Did I mention he had the most gorgeous eyes? Not counting Mum and Annabeth, of course. And Dad's too, I guess.

"I, uh, need help with cell cycle?" I blurted out. I hadn't planned on _what_ to say. "You know, the gating at G0 and stuff?"

He nodded seriously, "Alright, meet me after school? In the park?"

I agreed. Well, I _did_ need the help.

* * *

"You're a wizard?"

"You're a Demigod?"

We stared at each other, me with my sword out and he with his magic-stick-thing.

How did it become like this? Well, let me rewind.

We had met up at the park opposite our school just as planned and I was finally getting the gist of the dreaded mitosis and meiosis when I sensed a monster.

 _Great,_ I thought. _Just when I was finally increasing my chance to pass biology._

"Um, I need a break sir," I said, nervous. And he had just agreed to teach me.

He grinned at me, "Toilet break?"

Well, something like that.

I hurried away and lead the monster towards an empty alley and turned to face him. Correction, her. A really pretty girl with a beautiful voice and-

 _Oh great._ An Empousa.

I uncapped my Riptide. I have to work fast, I don't have Rachel or Annabeth to save me this time. I lunged at her, fainting a slash attack at her midriff, then aiming for the throat. She was saying something which I was determined not to hear (singing "Whatever it takes" by Imagine Dragons is a good way to ensure that) but I missed her neck as she was blasted away.

I sighed and turned to face the new intruder, sword ready, only to come face to face with-

"Mr. Potter?!"

"Are you hurt?" he asked worriedly.

"No?" How was I supposed to explain this?

 _Oh, it's nothing, you know, just a blood-sucking monster woman who wanted to rip my throat out because I was the spawn of an Olympian and a mere mortal. Or because I killed her sisters. Probably the latter of the two. Same old, same old._

But he had blasted away that thing, hadn't he? That meant-

"You're a wizard?"

"You're a Demigod?"

 **What.**

"Why did the Lady want your help is beyond me," the empousa said, standing up and staring at us like we were some kind of mud under her shoes. _Speak for yourself, lady._ "At least she could have asked for some female ones."

Mr. Potter pushed me behind him- _hey, I was the one holding the huge sword, man-_ and glared at her. His voice was cold, hard. "What do you want?"

She sniffed. "Nothing. The Lady wants to speak to you." She added, "Both," before I could open my mouth.

"And I suppose we should kowtow just because _your Lady_ told us to?"

 _Hey, you are already becoming my favourite, please don't add sass on top of that_. Besides I kind of needed him to not be, you know, cursed or something, so I said, "Hecate wants to meet us?"

He frowned as the monster hissed, "That's Lady Hecate for you, godspawn."

"Okay," I said. It wasn't really good for our continued existence to ignore a goddess' call. "Where do I meet her?"

She threw a coin at our feet. "Touch that, it will take you to her."

"Uh, Mr. Potter, rain check on that lesson?"

He was still frowning, his glasses shadowed so I couldn't see his eyes. His wand, I guess, was still out and pointed at the monster and wow, he's a wizard, that's so amazing -

Wait, fanboying later. Meeting first.

"By Hecate, you mean Goddess Hecate?" he finally asked.

I nodded.

He finally looked at me, having come to some sort of decision. "Okay, I'm coming with you."

That's it? No "gods don't exist", "you're crazy" or "I don't wanna go?"

Whatever man. I shrugged and warned him, "This is going to be dangerous."

He snorted, "Right."

* * *

Mr. Potter, or Harry as he told me to call him, was a very careful man. He had laughed at me when I had told him that, something about his friend having a fit if she hears that - but he is.

We had touched the coin and had been teleported ("Not again," he had muttered, wand still out) to a crossroads. Hecate was standing there, in all her black and purple glory, ready to hand out a quest.

"My dog is missing. Find her." Short and simple. I like that. But we kind of needed more information, since this is kind of a huge world.

"Where can she be?"

She shrugged and made it look graceful. Gods, I swear.

"She is with one of your friends." She glared at both of us. "I can't locate her, she is heavily warded." Her glare intensified. "Find her before tomorrow." The "or else" was heavily implied. I worked for a lot of gods. I know.

Then she did some weird sort of gesture and we were back where we had started. The Empousa was gone by that time.

"We need a safe place to talk," Mr. Potter said.

So I brought him to my mom's apartment.

* * *

Mom and Harry hit it off. Something about him raised all kinds of motherly affections in people and Mom wasn't an exception. He just smiled awkwardly throughout it all.

He loved her food though.

"We will contact our friends one by one and ask them if they have an unclaimed dog. No gallivanting off alright?"

I looked away guiltily. Contacting them wasn't the first thing on my mind.

"You were planning on that, weren't you?" he deadpanned.

* * *

The rest of it was fairly anticlimactic.

We had a lot of things in common. For example, having a super secret society, people trying to kill us since we were kids, useless prophecies, he talked to snakes, I talked to fishes and horses - no wonder he was so collected about it.

Oh, and the apparent danger of using technologies around us as well.

So I explained Iris Messaging to him as he explained the use of Two Way Mirrors.

Annabeth was the one who clued me in to the fact that he was apparently a famous guy. He just shrugged. She didn't have any dog though. Neither did Rachel. Or Piper. Or Hazel. Or anyone from Camp Half-Blood or Camp Jupiter.

Then he started contacting his friends. We instantly agreed that Hermione was never meeting Annabeth. Ever. Also, she didn't have the dog.

Neither did Ginny. It was adorable how he blushed around her. I'm _so_ shipping them.

He went to contact the last person on his list, someone named Luna. He was a bit hesitant at first before nodding firmly.

"If anyone can find the dog, it would be her. Why didn't I think of this before?" he muttered.

* * *

Luna did have the dog.

Apparently, the dog used to be some lady named Hecuba from Troy and had stuck to Luna since she looked like her late daughter, Polyxena. Poor lady was killed to satisfy Achilles' ghost. Talk about gross and disgusting.

That was what Luna told us.

"She can speak dog?" I asked Harry.

He shrugged. He hadn't known either.

The dog returned to Hecate after Luna spent a lot of time reassuring her that she'd meet her often. Hecate thanked us by giving a book that explained that all wizards were ger legacies.

Go figure.

Anyway, as I was saying, I didn't have to go anywhere, no fighting weird monsters, no life-threatening situations.

He even completed his lesson on cell cycle and told me I could use greek letters to write in his papers, he would just translate it with a nifty spell.

Best. Quest. Ever.

* * *

Word count: 1706

House: Snakes

Class: CoMC

Type: Standard

Prompt: Percy Jackson

Beta: Eribean

 _ **Set between Blood of Olympus and Trials of Apollo.**_

 _ **Percy=17**_

 _ **Harry= 29.**_


	21. Pax

**Pax**

 _ **Summary:**_ _Family takes care of family._

* * *

"Come on, this way!"

Queenie clutched the hem of her skirt, her other hand tightly holding on to her sister's. She looked around, glancing furtively before whispering, "Is this alright, Teenie?"

Tina turned, without breaking her stride and smiled. "Don't worry, not many people come this way."

Yeah, Queenie could definitely feel that. The corridor was properly lit, but empty. The last student she saw was a few turns back. The voices in her head were growing quieter, so much so that it was only a hum. She hastened her pace to keep up with her sister, golden curls bouncing around her face.

"You don't think we'll get detention for this, do you?" She asked worriedly.

She knew why Tina was doing that. It was her first week at school and being a natural Legilimens in a school full of children wasn't helping. Their home had been isolated and she never really ventured outside. She was regretting that now. She had already come close to fainting twice in one week and her eyes sported dark circles that would make a raccoon family proud.

Tina finally stopped in front of an innocuous cupboard and turned to look at her seriously.

"You cannot tell anyone about this," she said solemnly. "I discovered this in my second year and I want to keep this a secret between the two of us, 'kay?"

Queenie nodded vigorously. A secret just between the two of them, it sounded nice.

Satisfied with her reaction, Tina nodded. "Ok, let's go!"

Queenie tilted her head, confusion evident on her face at her sister's actions, who had confidently opened the door and was beckoning her inside.

"Uh, Teenie, inside the cupboard?" She asked, but followed her inside. Closing the door at her sister's insistence, she kept on walking.

"Voila!" Tina exclaimed, her eyes shining, hands outstretched.

Queenie's breath caught in her throat. The walk inside the cupboard was longer than it should have been - had transferred them to a completely different time and space. She was pretty sure it was still early morning in Ilvermorny when they had left, but in that mysterious place beyond the cupboard, it was night.

She looked at her surroundings, a forest which looked older than time itself but was somehow strangely soothing - right down to her very core. As she stepped forward a bit, she looked up at the night sky.

Beautiful would have been an understatement. Stars, millions of them glittered and winked at them - the dark blue expanse of the sky looking like a mantle of some ancient Goddess. There were two moons in the sky - one the colour of the dying sun and the other had a halo around - composed of the colors of the rainbow.

And the best part? It was completely silent inside her head.

For the first time, it was just her and her thoughts. Strange bird calls and crickets. The rustling of leaves and distant howling of wolves.

Tina came to stand beside her. "Beautiful, isn't it?"

Queenie looked at her sister, the soft glow of the moonlight illuminating her features. Her face, like hers had been, was turned towards the sky, her lips slightly upturned.

They sat down slowly, in sync, before both of them decided to throw caution to the wind and laid down on the ground. The moss-covered ground was soft and cool and Queenie was glad that Tina wasn't wearing the usual purple and white uniform of her house. The stains wouldn't be easy to get rid off.

Time became meaningless as they laid there, basking in the presence of each other, till her eyes slowly started to droop. Queenie tried to rub at her eyes, but Tina caught her.

"Its alright to sleep here," she said, smoothing down her curls. "I'll call you."

"Thank you," Queenie said groggily before succumbing to her exhaustion.

She didn't need Legilimency to know what Tina's soft expression meant as she closed her eyes.

* * *

Word count: 658.

House/Team: Snakes  
Class Subject: CoMC  
Category: (Drabble)  
Prompt(s): [Speech] "You don't think we'll get detention for this, do you?"

Beta: Eribean.


	22. Of lies and betrayals

**Of lies and betrayals**

Remus couldn't believe his own ears.

James, Prongs - the _first_ person who had ever thought him to be something more than the monster he was- was dead.

He stood in front of the graves - Prongs and _oh Merlin-_ Lily - the vibrant, level-headed genius who took no crap from anyone and was ne of his closest confidantes, was dead.

Dead.

Gone.

Never to return again.

He hadn't realized when he had sunk to his knees, kneeling over the freshly leveled soil but he couldn't muster up the strength to even stand. He clutched at one of the flower that had been left behind and it crumpled under his fist.

Sounds of fireworks reached his ears.

He wiped away the tears gathering in his eyes angrily. How dare they, _how dare they,_ _ **how dare they-**_

How _**could**_ they celebrate when two of the most important persons in his life were dead, sacrificed for the masses, two missing and one-

And Sirius, _**no**_ , Black-

The traitor. The liar. The snake.

Was everything a lie? He let go of the damaged petals and curled up on himself, hands clutching his head. Their friendship, their camaraderie, the times they spent together, their promises-

He couldn't take it anymore. Curled up in fetal position over his friends' grave, he howled.

The fireworks drowned the keening sobs of a man who had lost everything.

* * *

Sirius' heart stilled as he took in the destruction. The beautiful house, which had always emanated warmth and light was gone. In it's place stood a nightmare, cold and ominous, worse than Grimmauld Place.

Because he had left _that house_ willingly.

But this, his _**home**_ , it was torn away from him in the most painful way possible.

He choked back his sobs, it wasn't time to break down yet, he needed to find them, he needed to see with his own eyes, he needed to confirm-

Graves crunched under his feet as he dragged himself towards the final destination. Just a few steps, but never had it felt more distant.

And there was Prongs. He finally rushed, trying to find a sign of life, a pulse - anything - but in vain. His best friend, his brother was long gone into the cold embrace of death, where betrayal couldn't reach him, hazel eyes missing it's spark, desperation forever etched into his handsome feature.

He laid him back down - _not yet, he couldn't break down_ \- and went upstairs.

And there was Lily, tear tracks lining her beautiful face, green eyes never to twinkle again and mouth open in a wordless scream, never to scold him again, never to laugh at their antics.

He laid her down too - _it wasn't time, he couldn't break down, not yet, he still had to check -_ and finally glanced inside the crib.

Merlin he was still alive!

Harry, little Prongslet, stared up at him, eyes dry in the way it can only be when one had used up all the tears and raised his small hands.

Sirius inched towards those arms, the eyes of Lily in the face of James staring back at him, somehow simultaneously understanding and not understanding his own predicament and took him from the crib.

The tears fell as he clutched the last living reminder of his brother in all but blood and of a sister he had always wished he had.

* * *

James had known the moment Voldemort had set his foot inside their area.

Peter, Wormtail, one of his closest friend had been captured.

He had yelled at Lily to take Harry and run but had known, like him, she wouldn't survive the night. He was thankful that they had set up the countermeasures - _Lily was brilliant, wasn't she_ \- because them dying or not, Harry would live.

No matter what the cost.

"Long time no see, eh?" He had said cockily, still unable to wrap his head around the fact that they had caught on to their secret, "What did you do to Peter? Did you satisfy your inner sadism-"

"Cease your prattling, Potter!" The Dark Lord said, raising his wand. "Your so called _friend_ came to us," a gruesome smirk decorated his face, "willingly."

James ducked under the spell, vaulting behind the couch. His mind whirred, trying to make sense of his enemy's words. Peter went to them? Willingly? No way, he must be lying, there was no way Peter, timid, reserved Peter would join them-

"He took the Dark Mark months ago, Potter, months before he was appointed as you secret keeper." The Dark Lord continued his spiel as he sent barrages of spells towards him. "I had no interest in him at first, a weak, pathetic creature like that could only be of so much use-"

Blood roared in his ears as the rest of the words drowned in the static. Peter took up the Dark Mark? _Their Peter?_ The boy who cried when an injured bird died? The same boy who was the most likely to come up with the least harmful prank?

No it must be the mind games, trying to get him out of focus- when was the last time he saw Peter wearing a half sleeved dress? His blood turned cold - _he didn't remember._

But why? Why would he join Death Eaters? He hated them, specially after his mum's death - _why hadn't they noticed?_ Were they so wrapped in their own problems that they didn't even notice their friend suffering so much? Not him, not Remus, not Sirius?

He was battling on autopilot by then, knowing it was a losing one. He just had to give Lily enough time to set the trap-

Was Peter even alive? He - he didn't know anymore. How could they have been so blind? How could he not realise that Peter, gentle Peter was not with them anymore? James was mindlessly casting spells after spells when suddenly-

Green light arched towards him. He knew he wouldn't be able dodge it. Sighing, he closed his eyes.

" _I love you Lily, Harry. And I'm sorry Peter. I'm so, so sorry."_

* * *

Word count: 1006.

House: Snakes

Subject: CoMC

Category: Standard

Prompt: [Emotion] Heartbroken


	23. Borgin and Burkes

**Borgin and Burkes**

Welcome, revered customer, welcome to our humble establishment- Borgin and Burkes.

You need not look so worried, this shop doesn't discriminate customers. Age, gender, status - they do not matter, as long as you can pay. You are not the first one to enter this shop so young. Please, take my hand and allow us to help you browse our selection of wares.

Ah, I see the Dark Curio has already captivated your attention. You have a good eye indeed, Miss. This can be used for various means, but the most popular one is to place a cursed object within it and gifting it to your enemy. The Dark Curio, as the name suggests, will pique the curiosity of the person, forcing him to touch the object placed within. An elegant method of revenge, I must say!

You do not require it? No matter, we have a lot of goods. Next to your left, in the cabinet just beside the door and below the window is where we keep the trinkets.

The Silver Heart is a locket that will help you entice your true love. If you keep the picture of the one you love, they will surely come to you. There is a little downside, the longer you keep the picture, the more obsessed they will grow - to the point that one person killed and preserved the wearer to keep them forever.

The Blabbering Earrings will blabber all kind of negative thoughts to the person wearing them, till they are but a shell of themselves. That overconfident person who belittles you all the time? Trick them into wearing this and you will never be bothered again!

The Honeyed Teapot is a novel item that was created to seep poison slowly into the tea every time it is used. The life-force of the person dying is absorbed by the one who serves from it.

Ah, you seem fascinated by the Hand of Glory! It will show light to the bearer, and only the bearer. Did you know it was created from the hands of a ruthless murderer?

You have a good eye! That is one of the oldest creations, so legendary that even the Muggles have stories about it. The Monkey's Paw it will grant your three wishes - in a literal manner - but at a terrible, terrible price.

And to your right, in the jar in the cabinet, you can see the Eyes of Argus. It helps in identifying any threat or intruder.

Oh dear, you are looking faint. Do you want some water? Caractacus, can you please bring a glass of water for the miss? You ought to sit down - Merlin no, not there. That chair is the Embrace of Death - it strangles any person that it doesn't recognize as it's owner to death.

Here you are. Don't drink it too fast, you are already looking so pale, we don't want you choking now, do we?

It seems the potion worked, Caractacus. She is already asleep. Can you please kindly contact Ms. Zabini and let her know that the final ingredient for her Elixir of Eternal Youth is ready?

* * *

Word count: 518

House: Snakes.

Class: CoMC.

Drabble.

Prompt: [Setting] Borgin and Burkes

Beta: Eagles


	24. I love you

**I love you**

Dear Lily,

From the very first day I saw you in the Hogwarts Express, I knew you were the one! Your flaming red hair which reminds me of a warm fireplace, the bright eyes which shine like an emerald gemstone - you are like the personification of Christmas! It is my favourite holiday, you know? Also, your name- so fitting, it does justice to a pretty face like yours, beautiful like a flower indeed!

The way you stand up for those Muggleborns, the way you excel in your classes, the way your eyes sparkle when you learn a new spell - I'm in love with it all!

Please go out with me?

Your love,

James.

P.S. It would be even more than perfect if you ditch Snivellus. Please? For our wonderful future?

* * *

 _Mr. Potter,_

 _Firstly, I don't remember giving you the permission to address me so familiarly. Secondly, I think it is hilarious that you think comparing a girl to Christmas is flattering. Thirdly, do_ _ **NOT**_ _send me letters delivered by school owls, they have better things to do. Fourthly, if you like seeing me stand up to the stuck up gits, maybe next time you will not be a wallflower?_

 _Finally,_ **NO.** _Do not ever ask me that again._

 _EVANS._

 _P.S. His name is_ Severus _and he is my friend. I would kindly ask you to keep your nose out of my business._

* * *

Dear Lily Evans,

I'm deeply hurt that you allow Sni- sorry, _Severus,_ to address you so familiarly but not me. We are housemates, right? He is a snake, for Merlin's sake.

You have my full permission to call me by whatever you see fit. (Also, being compared to Christmas is the best thing ever, how can you _not like it?)_

Anyway, I heard from a little birdie that you are really fond of sugar quills. So here is a coupon for Honeydukes, you can get as many sugar quills as you like. Maybe we can go together next time and I can help you choose? It is bound to be a better trip than shopping for potions ingredients, am I right?

You will see my point of view one day.

Your one and only,

James.

P.S. Have you seen his friends? They are horrible and he is just pretending to be nice - trust me, people like these show their true colours in due time.

* * *

 _Arrogant Toe-rag,_

 _You just gave me permission to call you whatever, right? This one is really fitting for you, don't you think? Just because he is in Slytherin doesn't mean he is evil. I don't see a lot of bravery from your friend Pettigrew._

 _Also, I'm seriously doubting if you even have brain cells. Being compared to Christmas is a COMPLIMENT? Have you flushed your mind down Myrtle's toilet?_

 _Your little birdie, ahem, I mean, Remus was quite delighted to receive the Honeydukes coupon. Maybe I can go with him to help him choose?_

 _You wish. And it is EVANS to you._

 _P.S. Like I have mentioned many times before, it is NONE OF YOUR DAMN BUSINESS._

* * *

Evans,

This is a serious matter. I know you hate me but please, please don't involve anyone else in this. I would have talked to you personally, but this method is less suspicious.

It is about our furry little problem that you have figured out. Can we please talk during our Prefect rounds?

Potter.

P.S. I'm sorry about you losing your friend but I will never apologize for using Levicorpus on Snape. Was he even a true friend?

P.P.S. You are cute when you swear.

* * *

 _Potter,_

 _I am appalled that even after claiming to know me all these years you think that I would willingly harm someone innocent. Your furry little problem is my furry little problem as well - I would never betray that._

 _Let's meet at 10 o'clock near our normal starting point. I have some questions regarding the furry little friends of our furry little problem._

 _Lily Evans._

 _P.S. I do not wish to speak regarding this anymore. Please._

 _P.P.S. I'll show you swearing, you ##$#$# ._

* * *

Dear Lily,

Thank you for understanding. Last night's talk was refreshing, and dare I say, I fall for you even more day by day? I know you might not feel the same way and I respect you for that, but please, will you give me a chance? I promise to not let you down. I promise to do my best.

I promise to walk away forever if you wish.

But please, can you give me one chance?

James Potter.

.P.S. Still cute.

* * *

 _Pot- James,_

 _Honeydukes. This Saturday. 11 AM._

 _It's a date._

 _You may call me Lily. (Not in public, though.)_

* * *

Lily,

Thank you. I wish to ask you formally.

James.

* * *

 _James,_

 _Fine. But don't be too extravagant._

 _Lily._

* * *

 _James,_

 _The date was - nice. Forgive me for saying this, but I really didn't have high expectations for the day. I'm pleasantly surprised to say that I enjoyed it. A lot. I - I think I would like to give this a chance. It would be alright if you don't want to - I understand. I have refused you for a long time - most of it was your fault though._

 _I'll leave the planning of the next one (if there is a next one) to you._

 _Lily._

* * *

Lily,

You have no idea how happy you have made me. Of course I would give this a chance - Merlin this us like a dream come true!

And I don't mind. I will wait for you forever. And I will become a person worthy of you, just you see.

(May I say this now?) Yours,

James.

* * *

 _Dear James,_

 _Please don't squeal so loudly. It could be heard even inthe girl's dormitory._

 _Yes, you may._

 _Lily._

* * *

Dear Lily,

Will you honour me by becoming my wife?

Please, marry me.

Yours,

James.

* * *

 _James,_

 _Did you seriously propose by owl? And how did you get the school owl to agree? It has been a couple of years already since we left school!_

 _And,_ _ **YES.**_

 _Yours,_

 _Lily._

* * *

This is the best day of my life.

 _James, we are sitting next to each other._

So?

 _This is our wedding._

And? That's why I said - BEST. DAY. EVER.

 _So, stop passing notes and say it directly, you moron._

* * *

Word count: 1076.

House: Snakes.

Class: CoMC.

Standard.

Prompt: [Romantic Pairing] Lily Potter (or Evans)/ James Potter

Beta : eagles


	25. Chapter 2 : poison hemlock

**Chapter 2**

Severus Snape strode through the dark corridors of Hogwarts, his steps silent. The light from the waxing moon created an eerie atmosphere, his shadow lengthening and shortening with his steps, as he moved by the windows. The creaking of the moving staircases could be heard and then there was a howl of some creature - then silence draped over the castle again as if it was a mother's embrace.

The potions master threw open the doors and exited the castle, making his way towards the Forbidden Forest. The sound of the crunching of leaves beneath his feet grated on his nerves - was it too much to ask for silence? At least the wind was silent - thankfully muting the sounds of the celebrations.

Severus' hand clenched into a tight fist. His stride didn't break, unlike his heart.

There was a reason for him to go into the Forbidden Forest so late at night on such a day.

He had accidentally discovered a spell that could bring The Dark Lord back to a temporary body. The diary was carefully hidden in one of the secret vaults of The Conical Crypt. He had read the recipe over and over, so much so that he could recite it from memory. A potion that relied on unicorn blood and a deadly venom - Severus could only guess what the side effects could be.

And he had successfully come up with a few measures that would reduce them. It wasn't much, but it wasn't as if they could afford to spare more time.

And one of the main ingredients he required to make the potion was poison hemlock. Which, if harvested on Samhain, amplified it's properties to a ridiculous extent.

He gritted his teeth.

Two potions were to be made that night.

One, to kill.

Another, to resurrect.

His heart became heavier and heavier as he moved further into the Forest. There was a patch of wilderness in the northern part of the forest that held only poisonous herbs and shrubs - he had stumbled across that accidentally what seemed like a long while ago.

 _"Don't touch that Sev! It's poison hemlock and oh my god, is that White Snakeroot and Deadly Nightshade?"_

 _"I thought it was Queen Anne's Lace! You sure it's poison hemlock?"_

 _Musical laughter rang in his ears. "Of course I am, silly! Look, the stem is hairless and it has purple blotches - also Queen Anne's Lace has a central purple or red flower - legends say that. . . "_

Severus crushed those memories as he purposefully made way towards his destination. He was nearly there.

He sucked in a sharp breath as he entered the clearing - it was always avoided by all the creatures - but at night he couldn't help but appreciate the deadly beauty it represented.

The tiny, white flowers of the deadly plant beckoned to him.

Severus hesitated for a moment. It would be so, so easy to give up - to just stop living. One bite of any of those plants and Death would surely welcome him into His realm.

He had nothing to live for anymore. The final light was gone and he -

He stopped himself from touching those bewitching flowers at the last moment. Donning his dragon-hide gloves, he carefully cut the stem and the required number of flowers. He stepped back, glancing one last time at the poisonous vale that once held fond memories.

Severus Snape had finally chosen his poison.

* * *

Two potions.

Common ingredient.

One to be used in the first step.

One to be used in the last.

Severus simultaneously started the two cauldrons and began to prepare the ingredients.

Hemlock, Nightshade, and Digitalis in one.

Unicorn blood, snake venom, and Hemlock in the other.

Hemlock enhanced the toxic effects of Digitalis on the first.

It countered the toxic effect of snake venom in the second.

Four flowers for the first.

Seven for the second.

For the first time in his miserable life, Severus was hating the process of brewing potions. True both of them were tough ones, one small mistake could change the set-up of the whole thing, but some of his calibre could afford to be absent-minded during the session.

It finally came crashing down. The Potters were dead.

And so was Lily.

He had maintained his composure for so long that it had become a permanent mask. But finally, in the safe confines of his dungeons, he could afford to break down.

But the tears didn't come. Instead, there was this emptiness, this numbness, this cold - it was like someone had doused the little fire he had in his icy world. His heart kept beating, but it felt like it wasn't even in his own chest, like someone was constricting it with their bare hands -

It felt like hell.

He waited for the sorrow to come. But it didn't come either.

Only, in its place, came rage.

He crushed the first flower.

 _It was his mother's fault for being so weak and delusional._

He crushed the second flower.

 _It was his father's fault for being an abusive bastard._

He crushed the third flower.

 _It was that horse-faced bitch's fault for planting the first seed of doubt in Lily's mind._

He crushed the fourth flower.

 _It was Potter's fault for snatching her away._

Then he crushed the fifth.

 _It was Black's fault for helping him with it._

Then came the sixth.

 _It was Dumbledore's fault for letting them go unpunished._

Then came the seventh.

 _It was the society's fault for not accepting people for who they are._

Then the eighth.

 _It was those Purebloods' faults for being so immersed in their delusions of grandeur._

Then the ninth.

 _It was Voldemort's fault for killing his only love, even if he begged him not to._

Then the tenth.

 _It was Lily's fault for making him fall for her._

And finally- _it was his own-_

He stopped. The last flower needed to be used as a whole.

The potions were ready.

* * *

"Professor Dumbledore, I have grave news." Snape entered the Headmaster's office without any preamble.

Albus Dumbledore looked up from the document he was poring over and smiled gently at the man in front of him, the usual twinkle absent from his eyes. "Please take a seat, Severus."

Severus nodded stiffly and did as he was told. Declining the offer for a candy, he continued, "I'm suspecting The Dark Lord had made something to keep him from losing his life once he has been killed."

The usually composed man's features paled rapidly as he registered the words. Sighing, he put down the paper in his hands and pinched the bridge of his nose.

"You mean, Horcruxes?" He said finally, his tone sounding his age for once. "I was suspecting he is not really gone but this-"

"I have proof." He was cut off abruptly. "In fact, one of them is lying unguarded in his _ancestral_ home." Snape looked at him meaningfully. "And there are - _plans -_ of using that to bring him back."

Dumbledore paled further. "Tonight?"

Snape shrugged. "It's Samhain. Magic is at its peak. Great phenomenon have been occurring on this day since times immemorial."

"You suspect they will move today."

Snape nodded.

The old wizard looked at him for a moment before standing up. "Then what are we waiting for?"

* * *

Dumbledore tried and failed to take a proper breath. His heart was hammering in his chest, his vision dimming, the curse from his hand spreading rapidly and -

Severus, the boy whom he had given a second chance, standing in front of him with an emotionless mask.

"Why-" he managed to choke out, coughing up blood in the process.

The emotionless mask was gone and was replaced by a cruel, vicious smirk.

"Why? Why? _Why?_ After all this time, you have the audacity to ask why? That's what I should be asking _you!_ Why didn't you stop him when he was still weak? Why didn't _you_ dirty your hands for the _greater good?_ Why didn't you stop the bullying? _Why didn't you protect Lily?_ "

"Severus - "

"Don't call my name. This is all your fault. This is your fitting end - actually, Albus, this is better than what you _deserve._ "

The weakened wizard coughed a few more times. "I forgive you, Severus."

The smirk morphed into an enraged snarl as he lifted his wand to do something, anything - to make him feel the pain he was feeling.

But the older wizard was already dead.

He laughed, the sound hollow even to his own ears as he stood over the body of one of the greatest wizards of all times. It had been so, so easy to fool him. Lure him out in a facade to hunt Horcruxes, let him touch the cursed stone, offer him an "antidote" -

It was over so smoothly.

He had to let the others know.

"Expecto patronum."

But, nothing happened. Not even a wisp of silver.

He tried again.

"Expecto patronum. Expecto patronum. Expecto patronu-"

Severus dropped to his knees and howled.

* * *

"'I assert our inalienable right to party', eh Milly?"

Millicent Bagnold laughed at her secretary. "Oh come on Andrew, you know it's true! We deserve it!"

He nodded sagely, "That we do." He grinned before offering her a glass, "And so do you!"

Bagnold hesitated. "Andrew I'm still working-"

"Oh come on, you said it yourself! Are you going against your own words? Or are you a lightweight?"

"I'll show you lightweight, you git!" She downed the glass in one go.

* * *

Andrew removed the glass from the already cooling fingers of the now dead Minister of Magic and whistled. "Damn, that bat makes some potent potions."

* * *

Word count: 1609

House: snakes

Subject: CoMC

Bonus story: CHAPTER TWO.

Prompt: [Object] Poison Hemlock

Beta: Eagles


	26. Flight

_**Summary:**_ Flying had been the greatest desire of humans since the beginning of time. OC used.

 **Warning: Mention of depression, self harm, survivor's guilt.**

 **Flight**

Happy memories. Happy thoughts.

Mark took a deep breath and relaxed - his mind getting lost in the meager amount of memories that actually, truly, ever made him happy. To the time when he could still walk, running on his little legs, chasing Andrew around, his elder brother's laughter resonating in his head - a sound he would never hear any more. To the time when his dad would look at them fondly and yell at them to not go near the stream, how his mum would scoff and try to hide her smile, telling their dad that he was the more handful of the three of them. His dad's guffaws as he tried to mess with his wife's hair-

A shimmery, captivating blue silhouette of an eagle burst from his wand.

"Good. Now focus on the patronus and image of eagle - you need to reach into your core and coax the magic-"

Professor Mcgonagall's voice helped him to change the dark route his thoughts were taking.

He was never alright after the accident. Mark's survival was seen as a miracle in the medical community. The repeated thoughts of why he was the one who survived when everyone else was gone was answered when he got his letter at the age of eleven. Supposedly, his magic had saved him from certain death. Because, apparently, being crippled was better than being dead. Because, apparently, it wasn't strong enough to save his family.

He thought he couldn't hate magic more.

Then came Flying class.

As a human, it was a natural dream to be able to fly - to reach for the limitless sky, free from the confines of ground, free from the restraints of gravity - wild and untethered.

Wizards could do that, he realized.

But _he_ couldn't.

Wheelchairs don't fit on brooms _after all_. And the magic carpet was long outlawed.

He had never hated more. He _hated_ his magic for saving him, he _hated_ his family for leaving him, he _hated_ that drunk truck-driver, he _hated_ the students who flew like it wasn't a _privilege -_

-and most of all, he hated himself because he _couldn't even die_ properly.

"Focus, Mr. Mason. This is the final stage - you are very close."

He opened his eyes, shook his head and responded with a meek "Yes, Professor," before going back to follow her orders.

Closing his eyes again, he tried to smother his hatred for magic.

He tried to forget how he had wanted to _hurt_ those who pitied him and talked about him in his back.

He tried to bury down the memories of how he had tried to jump off from the moving staircase.

But he focused on how Professor Mcgonagall was the one who found him, stopped him and gave him something to focus on other than the tantalizing invitation of death.

 _Animagus_.

So he threw himself into it. Learning advanced spells, meditating to stop his mind from constantly circling around thoughts of release from the world, controlling his emotions and focusing on just the present, just the task was _hard._

But he wanted to fly, he _had_ to - if magic had the galls to take everything away from him, it could at least afford to give something in return.

Mark was overjoyed when his patronus turned out to be an eagle in his Fifth year - his determination had paid off. He would not deny the rare burst of happiness that had blossomed in his chest at the soft, proud smile on his generally strict instructor's face.

And a year later, there he was - at the final stage of perfecting his animagus form.

He felt the unnatural sensation of his body morphing, it was weird - the bones changing, the skin morphing, but surprisingly, it wasn't painful. He felt the feathers grow and his stature became smaller and smaller till he heard clapping.

He opened his eyes, vision clearer than he had ever seen and marveled at the look of pride on Professor Mcgonagall's face.

"Congratulations, Mr. Mason."

His throat let out a high-pitched but weak scream.

He had done it.

He could finally fly.

THC/The Houses Competition.

House: Slytherin

Class: DADA

Prompts: [Action] Flying

Drabble.

Word Count: 681. (With summary and AN: 728)

Beta: charlotteredmond99


	27. Half

**Half**

"Would you just _stop_?"

Fred crossed his little arms stubbornly and refused to budge in the face of their irate mother. If Charlie was there, he would have said that their mum definitely looked like a dragon - what with the flared nostrils, disheveled flaming red hair, and glance enough to petrify lesser mortals-

In fact, she looked _very_ close to spitting fire.

If it was some other day, he would have laughed at her and egged her on, face innocent, eyes gleaming with mischief, taking cues from his twin-

Fred's breath caught in his throat as his eyes fell on the seat beside him - _stillEmptyStillEmptywhy-_ and glared back at his mother, still refusing to touch the food.

"I want to see Georgie." He said again, probably for the umpteenth time that day. "I don't want to eat, I want to see him."

Molly dropped her spoon in the bowl with a resounding clang. Slamming her hands on the table that startled Ron out of his daydream, she glared at Fred. "You will finish your food right now," she gritted her teeth, "and you will stop your tantrums. You will see him when it is time. Eat." At Fred's defiant expression, the corner of her lips tightened and she spoke again, her tone promising punishment, " **Now**."

Ginny started to cry.

Fred's lips wobbled, eyes watering. He pushed his plate away and hopped down, sniffling.

"I'm not hungry."

He ignored Molly's call and ran to the refuge of his bedroom, _their_ bedroom - but it was just his then, since Georgie wasn't there, Georgie was all alone at the hospital and he was all alone at home and _no one cared_ enough to tell him what was going on.

The seven year old locked his door and threw himself on the bed. He wanted to scream and shout and howl at the world, at everyone because they wouldn't just _listen-_

He sobbed, face on the pillow, trying desperately to stop the tears, but they refused to follow his orders, his eyes kept on overflowing and the pain his chest wasn't going away at all. He rubbed at his eyes furiously, it wasn't the time to cry, he needed to find a way to see George, at least once, he would be alright then. It has been five days already.

His illness couldn't be that bad, right?

xxxx

He found his chance that night after dad came back from work. He had surely visited the hospital, Fred could smell the typical sterile odour associated with infirmaries. But what stopped him from throwing a tantrum was the weariness in Arthur's brows.

Fred ate quietly that night with his two younger siblings. Molly didn't bring up his actions from noon in front of Arthur - which surprised him. Rather, she gave him the silent treatment, which both of the twins detested.

He felt a little bad for acting out but he wasn't going to apologize. He understood, he really did, that it was hard for his parents too - but he would be satisfied if they at least told him what was wrong with George.

Dinner was quite that night. Even Ron and Ginny didn't make a fuss.

Fred trudged up the stairs after dinner, not wanting to stay any longer in that smothering atmosphere. Locking his door behind him, he listlessly slumped on the floor. Bringing his knees up to his chest, he hugged them trying desperately to stop his tears from falling again. He buried his face on his knees, as his efforts proved fruitful.

Fred knew people thought it was childish for him to be that dependent on his brother - but they didn't _understand._ They didn't understand - he had been with George forever. The first memory he had was their little hands joined together in their crib, falling asleep to their dad's gentle voice. He hadn't let go of that hand since then.

Till that moment.

George was feeling under the weather for a couple of days before the incident. Fred had forcefully put a stop to all their prank planning on the second day and took care of him.

On the third day, George's thumb started becoming transparent.

He was immediately taken to Mungo's and had been there ever since then.

Fred wasn't aware of how long he had sat like that - but was startled out of his drowsiness by a low voice coming from their parents' room. He stretched his limbs and waited for the numbness to die down, before silently unlocking his door. He mentally applauded the two of them for coming up with the idea to keep the hinges smooth - after all, it wouldn't be good for their plans if mum heard them every time they left their rooms.

It sure came in handy.

He got lighter on his feet, taking care to avoid the third plank which creaked and slowly situated himself in front of the door.

". . . that can't be true! . . . Arthur. . ." Molly was sobbing.

Times like these, he wished he had some device to listen in on conversations. He needed to talk to Georgie about that.

". . . Vanishing Disease. . . No cure. . ."

". . . _**dying**_. . ."

His ears were ringing. Surely, it couldn't be true? He walked back to his room in a trance and drifted off to sleep.

Xxxxx

"Can you take Ginny to the Lovegoods?" Molly tentatively asked a silent Fred during lunch the next day. "Pandora asked to send her over."

He nodded glumly. He poked at his food, not having much appetite after yesterday's eavesdropping. He got up after pushing around the food some more and made his way to the garden. "Call me when she is ready," he said, softly.

While Ginny was good friends with Luna, the twins liked her mum the best. Pandora was a genius at Potions and had taught them the basics of potion making. She didn't talk down to them at all, rather, she had always encouraged them to work on new ideas. She also gave them tips here and there, ideas on how to improve a prank with a wink and a grin.

He could talk to her regarding the Vanishing Disease. Surely it couldn't be as bad as they were making it out to be?

The walk to Luna's house was silent. Usually Ginny kept on chattering non-stop, but maybe she felt Fred's low mood today, because she didn't say a word. Fred was thankful for that - their little sister could be scarily perceptive at the best and worst times.

It was almost time for the sun to set and one or two fireworks were already seen. It had been a few years since the defeat of Dark Lord and people were still celebrating his defeat on Halloween. Their family never participated though. The losses were too much, the victories too little.

Luna and Pandora were standing on their doorsteps, waving as soon as they arrived. Other days, Ginny would run as soon as she saw them- but it was different that day.

She hugged Fred tightly before running to her friend.

Xxxxx

Pandora's eyes weren't smiling. The usual gentle look was replaced by a grave countenance.

His heart sank. The cookie dropped to the tray with a dull clink.

"If that's what you heard, Fred, I'm sorry, it's incurable. A person usually takes about a month to disappear, but it depends on the body surface area, it's faster in children -"

A ringing sound filled his ears - he got up and slowly, slowly backed away from her. His movements felt like someone who was petrified, heavy, unaware of the world. Pandora's voice rose, Fred saw her blurry hand move towards him through the tears.

He turned and ran.

He ran, ran, till his breathing got faster and faster, heart hammering in his chest, eyes unseeing of the world around, unknowing of the path his feet took him to.

George was going to die. He was going to leave him forever. They wouldn't be able to play pranks anymore, they wouldn't be able to open their prank shop, they wouldn't be able to become rich and famous and bloody hell, they wouldn't be able to go to Hogwarts, they wouldn't even receive their letters together, they wouldn't be able to go wand shopping together -

The ringing in his ear grew louder and louder, till he started to hallucinate a song. He crashed to the ground as the ringing reached its peak and rubbed his eyes, heaving.

Soft light illuminated the area - he couldn't remember if he had ever been to these parts - and drowned the darkness. When he looked more closely, the lights seemed to be coming from some small - fireflies? No, they had wings but their bodies looked bigger than fireflies and resembled human figures.

Fred paled and looked at his foot - sure enough - he was standing in a ring of toadstools.

He had to get out of there. And fast.

That was his last thought before he heard bell-like laughter and passed out.

Xxxx

". . . it's getting up. . ."

". . . it's a human!"

". . . round ears. . . "

"Hush now."

Fred groaned and opened his eyes to the most beautiful scene he had ever seen. Huge trees surrounded him, leaves the colours of the rainbow and flowers ranging from smaller than a button to as large as Hippogriff. A sweet, nostalgic smell lingered in the air, and somehow made him feel refreshed and drowsy at the same time. Small beings fluttered around him curiously, their voices the ones rousing him from sleep. It no longer looked like any area in St. Ottery, Catchpole, but it looked. . .

 _. . . like a land of the Fae._

Fred knew the rules. _Don't stand in a fairy ring, don't offend them, don't lie to them, don't ask for any favors, don't receive any gifts and most importantly,_

"What is your name, human?" An eerily beautiful being, features all sharp and pointed, wings like an elegant butterfly, asked him.

 _-don't give them your full name._

He hadn't noticed at first, but how he could have missed that throne was beyond him. It was, like every other thing there, mind-numbingly beautiful. The trunk of two trees somehow joined to form the throne, leaves and branches and flower entwining together, fireflies, actual ones, going in and out of the little crevices to give it a soft glow - it had nothing on the person hovering over it, though.

Fred gulped as their sharp smile became sharper with his silence.

"Speak human, what are you called by?"

He swallowed. Alright, only the first name.

"Fred."

"Fred," repeated the ethereal being, somehow sounding amused. "You are fortunate enough to cross the borders on this auspicious twilight. Dine with us, Fred."

Suddenly, the mood changed. The eerie, silent atmosphere somehow became lively. Voices and laughter and sounds of merrymaking entered his ears. Tables made of living trees appeared, leaves acted as plates. And the food - the food! The stories of Hogwarts' food paled in comparison to this.

The strong, heady smell intensified. Fred had a feeling that if anything, he shouldn't succumb to the temptations.

 _MustNotEatMustNotEatMustNotEat. . ._

He bowed deeply.

"I . . . I don't have any appetite - you see, Your Highness, my brother is ill and I can't imagine enjoying this without him."

"Indeed," they nodded sympathetically. "What illness might that be?"

All the stuff of the past few days crashed on to him. He spoke as if he wasn't in control of himself - his voice felt like someone else's. He spoke and spoke and spoke till he had nothing to speak of anymore.

"We can cure your brother," their smile was all teeth. "Your story has intrigued us, consider this a _gift._ "

"I should not impose."

"Your brother will be alive with you."

Fred hesitated.

"You promise?"

The smile grew wider.

"Speak your wish, human."

"I want to stay with George my whole life and complete Hogwarts together."

"So be it." The grin was no longer beautiful.

Xxxx

No healer could figure out how George Weasley - who had a fatal disease - recovered overnight.

Fred was found behind the Burrow that night, unconscious, but otherwise healthy.

The twins reunited the next day.

Xxxx

House: Slytherin

Class: DADA

Prompts: [emotion] separation anxiety

Standard.

Word Count. 2028 including AN

Beta. LOR.


	28. Track me

**Track me**

 _Seven days left_

.

Harry couldn't help but feel an impending sense of doom. He had been through a lot of tight situations in his life despite not even being in his thirties - definitely more life-threatening events than people see in seven lifetimes - but he always came out on top. Bent, bruised, but _never_ broken.

At least that's what he liked to think. (His night terrors were _resolutely_ ignored while making the statement.)

But it was never this bad.

Ginny looked up from finishing the final touches of the last few invitations and stretched her arms. She rolled her eyes at Harry's expression.

"Geez, people would think that I'm taking you to a slaughterhouse with the face you are making," she huffed. Then she squinted at him and added, "You are not having any second thoughts, _are you_?"

Harry furiously shook his head and said, "No, Merlin, no! I mean it's such a big step and," he hesitated, "are you sure you are alright with this?"

"You think I'd go through with it if I didn't want to?" Ginny deadpanned.

Harry wilted even more.

Ginny pulled his hair. Hard.

"Ow!"

Harry's pout was hilarious.

Ginny surreptitiously put the hair she removed in a special container inside her pocket and smiled.

He shivered.

* * *

 _Five days left_

.

Neville gently took the pruners away from Harry's hand. "Are you that worried about it?" He couldn't help but ask.

Harry blinked, as if coming out of a trance. Then he smiled bashfully, "That obvious, huh?"

Neville just smiled at him. He stood up, absentmindedly patting the murtlap before taking off his gardening gloves.

"It's all fixed Harry, let's go back inside."

He came once every month to help Harry with the plants in the little greenhouse Harry had built in his new home. It was a costly thing but gardening was something that was nostalgic and therapeutic to Harry - a little bit of reprieve from the preparations.

As they sat in the drawing room, sipping on the tea Mimsy, Harry's house elf had prepared, Neville collected his thoughts. "I know it is a big change for you, but you are not doing this on a whim, are you?" He waited till Harry shook his head and continued, "I understand how scary it is to have good things happen, but if anyone deserves it, it's you."

Harry looked on the verge of crying.

Neville suddenly jumped up from his seat and tugged at his hair, "Oh no, you have dandruff? I have this perfect remedy for it - "

"Ow," Harry said once again in a matter of a few days.

* * *

 _Three days left._

"We'll be late Harry - would you _please_ stop loitering outside the Gringotts?" Hermione was very close to shaking him bodily.

He just let out a heavy sigh.

"We're just collecting the cuff-links your father left behind - you looked better when you walked to your death." She glared at him to get the point across.

"Really, mate, if you don't want to go through it, I'd understand. No one would judge." Harry was pretty sure Ron wasn't _trying_ to sound condescending.

The force of glare of Hermione transferred to the ginger.

"Shouldn't you be saying the opposite?" Harry asked.

Ron shrugged. "It's _her_ we are talking about. I should be more worried about you."

When they finally reached home after a long session of getting glared at by goblins, they dropped on the sofa, exhausted.

"Merlin, it was so long ago!" Ron exclaimed. "Is there any need to _still_ give us the stink-eye?"

Hermione rolled her eyes.

Harry got up. "I've to use the loo."

They nodded listlessly, still sprawled on the sofa.

The situation changed as soon as Harry left the room.

Hermione hissed, "Did you _have_ to say that stupid stuff?"

Ron looked nonchalant. "It's reverse psychology." He paused. "You don't think he will actually run, do you?"

Hermione gnawed on her lips before coming to a decision. "It's Harry."

"So should I pull his hair, or do you want to do it?" Ron asked.

Hermione gave him the _you're-such-an-idiot-why-do-I-put-up-with-you_ look and summoned Harry's comb which had a few strands of his hair stuck on it.

"Oh," said Ron.

"Yes," deadpanned Hermione.

Xxxx

"It went off without a hitch, huh," Ron laughed.

"I'm sure Harry wouldn't have run from his own wedding. Still, it doesn't hurt to make sure. He didn't really have dandruff," Neville sighed, sending an apologetic look towards Harry which the latter missed.

"Wait - you too? You actually pulled his hair?" Ron asked excitedly, giving Hermione a smug look.

Neville's ears turned red.

Hermione sighed. "Well, it seems like we didn't need to use the tracking spell."

* * *

" _Avenseguim_."

Ginny dressed rapidly and followed the hair in the little glass bottle she had kept in for visibility.

It was late at night and Harry was nowhere to be seen in their house - Ginny tried not to show how worried she was.

The dreams of his still form in Hagrid's arm didn't make it any better - except in those dreams, he never woke up.

The spell had brought her to a well known place.

"Hah," a relieved sigh escaped her lips. "It's Godric's Hollow," she muttered to herself.

To be more specific, the cemetery.

She went to silently stand beside him. Harry sat and stared, unblinking, at his parents' grave.

"I wish they were here to attend the wedding today," Ginny murmured.

Harry nodded imperceptibly. "Me too."

Ginny touched his shoulders. "Let's go home."

Harry shook his head, as if getting rid of a trance. He got up and clutched her hands in his.

"Yeah. Home." Harry finally smiled. "I have found a home."

* * *

THC/The Houses Competition.

House: Slytherin

Class: DADA

Prompts: [Spell] Avenseguim.

Drabble.

Word Count. Total 966.

Beta. charlotteredmond99


	29. Next Great Adventure

**Next best adventure**

It was considered impossible for a person to attend one's own funeral.

But hey, as his best mate had once said, he was _Harry bloody Potter_.

It was considered impossible for an infant to vanquish a Dark Lord.

It was considered impossible to survive the Killing Curse. _Twice_.

Impossible was his middle name, Harry had resigned himself to that. (He imagined how Hermione would have snorted and said that, no Harry, _trouble_ is your middle name and his heart clenched.)

He stood under the shade of one of the huge trees that lined the cemetery, his form visible to no one except the being on his right. The whole cemetery was visible from there and he was surprised at the number of people that had showed up. They had actually managed to keep his funeral a family affair, Harry mused. Still, it was a lot of people - _Weasleys_ , as his blond arch-nemesis turned tentative friend liked to say.

He smiled when he spied the blond heads at a respectable distance away from the gaggle - all somber and uptight. Harry snorted, the Malfoy pompousness was certainly a sight to behold. He was thankful that they couldn't see him, he was definitely in for a tongue lashing for dying _stupidly, your "saving-people-disease" was terminal Mr. Potter_ \- as Scorpius would say.

He didn't regret dying, not really. Not when Auror Jones would have died from the curse - he had a baby on the way and was already such a proud father - there was no time to erect a shield and Harry was the closest anyway. He remembered his partner's frantic actions; the usually mild man going as far to permanently incapacitate their suspect (well, he wasn't just a suspect anymore, having used the same curse he had used on his other victims) for serial killing to get Harry to a healer quickly, how he had sobbed as he sent a message to the Ministry and how he had promised that their child would be named after him - Harry could only laugh through the pain at that time.

"You are one of the rare few who were relieved to die," Death mused, his deep timbre sending shivers down Harry's metaphorical spine. He could feel the Primordial Being looking at him but he ignored it. "You are also one of the rare few who don't think twice before ignoring me."

Was that amusement in his voice?

Who cared.

He was _Harry bloody Potter_.

Death was not wrong though. Though he could vehemently try to deny it, the fact remained that apart from the pain at that time, the only other emotion he had felt was relief.

He was _tired_. Just so, so exhausted. Of all the expectations, of all the fame, of all the responsibilities - everything. He had been fighting ever since he could remember - against his magic hating _caretakers_ (if they even could be called that), against his destiny, against the expectations, against his peers, against _Voldemort_. After the war it somehow became harder - as the number of people he had to protect increased but the enemies never decreased.

The coffin containing his body was lowered and he could hear the choked gasps of Albus, his youngest and the sobs of Lily. Ginny stood strong, her eyes puffy but not crying _(yet)_ and so did James. His best mates were not holding up too well. Hermione stared with a vacant expression and Ron looked like he had aged ten years in the last couple of days.

His heart sank at the anguished cries of Molly. Arthur held her tightly - as if to keep her from breaking at the death of another son in everything but blood. It had been a great task to break her from the stupor after Fred's death - but this time -

Harry hoped that she would be alright.

Finally his eyes landed on Teddy. His Teddy, his eldest, who looked dumbfounded as the grave started to fill - like he had never ever remotely entertained the thought of Harry _dying_ \- like he wasn't even sure he was awake and not in a nightmare. His hair was black and his whole complexion shallow - he had never resembled their much hated Potions Professor so much.

Harry's heart twinged with guilt at being relieved with his death but he knew they would recover. They were strong. Hurt, they definitely would, but they would heal and come back stronger.

His job was done in that world - his presence was needed no more.

His eyes passed over the faces of his long time friends and comrades, his brothers and sisters-in-arms - all looking desolate and defeated. George, Neville, Dean, Seamus, Cho, Lavender, Parvati, Padma and so many more - he sighed. Honestly, they didn't need to look _that_ sad.

It was a surprise that he lived that long, honestly.

But hey, he was _Harry bloody Potter_.

He stood there for who knew how long, with Death as his silent companion till people started to leave one by one. He waited till everyone was gone and then waited some more. He was brought out from his musings by footsteps.

He blinked, the action totally unnecessary but habit was habit.

 _Luna_.

He hadn't noticed her in the crowd and had reasoned that she must have been somewhere where his family couldn't contact her. He broke into a big smile as he saw her place a bunch of red spider lilies on his grave - a stark contrast to the heaps of white flowers. She kneeled down in front of the grave and patted it then smiled happily.

His mind stuttered as she directly looked at the place he was standing.

He could feel Death's intrigue at her stare. "Not her," Harry whispered, "please, not her, not yet."

Death just radiated amusement, that wanker. For a _supposedly_ grim Being, he was pretty cheery.

Their staring contest broke at Luna's wispy voice. "Harry, I bet you were relieved. Good luck on your next adventure," she said happily. Harry was once again reminded of what a stark contrast her reaction was from the rest of the people. "Don't worry, I'll meet you there."

Harry's non-existent heart stopped as she nodded in their direction and skipped away from the cemetery, humming a little tune.

Harry would say Death snorted, but someone like Death didn't snort right? (His worldview would change shortly.)

"Life's minions were always a colorful bunch," Harry's companion muttered.

" _What_?" Harry exclaimed.

He was once again on the receiving end of a long suffering stare which he was getting pretty used to. "It is time for your next job."

"Can't I get a rest?" Harry whined. "I just died, mate."

"You are the Master of Death, it is your duty to fulfill," Death said snootily. "And you didn't _die_ , your mortal coil did."

"Whatever man," Harry said. "You said something about finding a successor, right? How do I do that?"

"It is nigh impossible since you destroyed the Elder Wand - with your own hands if I may add," Death deadpanned.

"Can't you make another one?"

His expression reminded Harry of Hermione's patent _are-you-stupid-oh-wait-you-are_ face. Right, of course it was impossible to forge another Deathly Hallow.

Of course.

"So, what's my mission?" Harry asked as he started to walk away from his own grave.

"You have to go to this world - they are based on mercenary dictatorship and their death rates are unnecessarily high. It's causing a lot of problems in the Far Shore."

Harry frowned as Death stopped him, fingers raised to touch his forehead.

"And what do I have to do there?" He asked, dreading the answer.

He saw Death's sadistic smile before he fell.

" _The impossible_ , of course."

Right.

He was _Harry bloody Potter_ and he couldn't catch a break.

* * *

A/N: I absolutely love love love Luna. Did I mention I love Luna?

THC/The Houses Competition.

House: Slytherin

Class: DADA

Prompts: [Event] Funeral.

Standard.

Word Count. (Total 1324)

Beta. charlotteredmond99


	30. Losing streak

**Losing streak**

Tom Marvolo Riddle hated losing.

He had hated losing to those disgusting _children_ at the orphanage, he has hated losing to those wicked caretakers and matrons, he hated losing to those ignorant priests that claimed he was the devil incarnate, he hated losing to the Professor whose eyes were warm except when he looked at him and he definitely hated losing to those filthy rich, arrogant snobs who thought they had the right to rule the Wizarding World.

So he won and kept on winning against them, through his genius plannings, hardwork and natural talent.

He had even managed to defeat _Death._

Or so he thought.

The first defeat came on the night he had gone to remove the final obstacle. He had sneered when he saw James Potter facing him without a _wand_ and had taken a mere few seconds to kill the blood-traitor. That's what they get for believing in _love_ and _friendship —_ Pettigrew had been _so_ easily lured to his side.

Then the woman who his faithful servant had begged to be spared. Well, Severus had served him well—he deserved a reward. He had originally intended to spare her, but seeing her beg for her _child's_ life, not _her own,_ snapped something inside him.

Till date, he had failed to understand how a mere babe had survived a Killing Curse, instead defeating him.

All because of that blasted Prophecy.

The second meeting with the child, who had started to attend Hogwarts shouldn't have resulted in his loss either. His vessel was an inadequate fool, but he had enough magical core to help him rehabilitate. He had managed to bypass all the silly traps set by the Professors, he had also managed to get a hand on the mythical Stone, but—

 _He still lost._

The child's hand had burned him like no other, it violently resembled the first time he had _died._

He was furious when he figured out that the diary had been destroyed. His first, his largest portion of the soul—gone, just like a breeze. Malfoy suffered for that, suffered as he should.

He claimed their third meeting as a victory, but deep down, he knew it wasn't. He had revived, true, but he had also failed to destroy the very reason he even needed to revive.

Dumbledore destroyed his chances of getting even with the Boy-Who-Lived at The Ministry and that day, he had raged. His magic had lashed out violently, making his useless followers collapse. How _dare_ that old fool still go on and on about love when time and again it was proven to be an unnecessary sentiment?

In the final meeting, he finally had the chance to cut off all the loose ends. Everything that he had been waiting for would be within his grasp. He pointed his wand towards the mere _boy_ who remained the only one that had managed to defeat him more than once and —

" _Avada Kedavra._ "

The boy fell like a puppet cut off its string.

* * *

— _for neither can live while the other survives —_

The words of the prophecy rang in his head as he saw the red jet of light fly towards him, the weary expression of the _boy_ who defeated him for the last time seared into his brain.

Lord Voldemort hated losing.

So why did he have a continuous losing streak against a mere slip of a boy who didn't even use an Unforgivable?

* * *

THC/The Houses Competition.

House: Slytherin

Class: DADA

Prompts: [Theme] a losing streak.

Drabble.

Word Count. Total: 597 (google docs counted)

Beta. Lor.


	31. Destiny awaits

**_Summary:_** _Tom wonders, where did everything go wrong?_ **AU.**

 **Destiny awaits**

"I'm here to study, not play a stupid game," Tom Riddle sneered loftily in all of his would-be-Dark-Lord glory.

The baby tilted his head, his emerald green eyes bright and inquisitive - as it tended to be in babies and bestowed him with his best gummy smile. Then he raised his hands, in the universal gesture of babies wanting to be held.

How he managed to get down from the heavily warded bed to roll on the carpeted ground of the dormitory was beyond him.

Tom would deny doing anything inelegant like _groaning,_ but if there were any witnesses, they would definitely say the contrary. But he did run his hand over his face, the stress of unwanted (and unwarranted) fatherhood getting to him.

"Fine," he ground out at the toddler, the latter's face lighting up as he realized that his request was granted. He immediately waddled to clutch at the older boy's trousers and refused to let go till he was picked up.

" _Why are you so troublesome_?" Tom hissed, as he was demoted to play along with the whims of a mere baby.

Wonder of wonders, the kid hissed back happily, his pronunciation a bit butchered —thanks to his yet undeveloped tongue.

Tom felt his entire body go rigid. The child who hadn't uttered a single word since he dropped into his life was a _Parselmouth?_ He blinked owlishly at his ward, holding him at an arm's length.

He had possibly heard wrong, right?

He hesitantly hissed at him again. The child hissed back. Again.

At that moment, Tom was immensely grateful that he had been provided a different room to take care of the baby instead of housing in the dormitories.

Thus he could flop down on the floor, gracefully mind you, without anyone but the baby to judge him for his actions.

The toddler hissed some more and tugged at his hair.

This time, Tom did groan.

* * *

It had happened three months ago —on just a normal day at The Great Hall, imbeciles were shouting, idiots were laughing, the morons he called his followers were snootily grovelling—the usual. The bright light had come out of nowhere and when everyone was busy shielding their eyes, Tom felt a basket drop in on his plate and break it with a loud thud.

Accompanied by wailing. Of a _child._

It took a lot to surprise Tom, but getting delivered a baby at his breakfast made the cut, especially when he couldn't recall engaging in any such lowly activities that people his age generally tended to enjoy, ever.

The always noisy ( _too noisy_ ) Great Hall fell silent. If he wasn't so inwardly rattled by the sudden appearance of a wailing infant in front of him, he would have appreciated it. Not for long though —oh no, he wasn't ever that lucky —all hell broke loose.

"What just happened — "

"Why is there a baby—"

"How did it bypass the wards?"

" _Riddle_ is sleeping around?"

A loud bang rang out —Tom didn't bother hiding his surprised expression, it would be stranger to _not_ be surprised—and the faculty descended upon the students. Dipper frowned and the others looked suitably flummoxed. Dumbledore ran a diagnostic scan over the still wailing baby ( _Salazar, did he have a strong set of lungs_ ) and found nothing unusual with his system. He picked the basket, but there was no note to be seen, nothing to identify where he came from.

Dumbledore turned his eyes on him and Tom almost sneered. Of course that old coot would suspect him—even when he hadn't done anything. _Yet_.

But thankfully, he didn't say anything. He just picked up and held the baby and cooed at it, slowly rocking it from side to side. It did nothing to soothe the baby.

That's when the funniest thing happened. As they professors turned to take the baby away—a few feet away, really—it screamed.

And Tom collapsed.

* * *

And so, Tom was stuck with taking care of a baby. The professors couldn't find out anything except the fact that separating the two for more than three meters will result in excruciating pain for Tom and the baby.

And then Dumbledore, the bane of his existence, proposed _(ordered)_ that he take care of the baby.

Did the old coot somehow _forget_ that he himself was raised in an orphanage? How the fuck, pardon his language, would he know anything about raising a baby? Tom had always steered clear of the snot-nosed brats except for the times he had to threaten or terrorize them. What would _he_ know about how to take care of that thing?

Also, he had plans —grand plans that he had already started to implement but his first major step was going to be taken that year.

 _Maybe,_ he mused, _I can feed it to the Basilisk?_

"I understand if it would be too much for you, Tom," Dumbledore prattled on and Tom hated himself for falling for that obvious manipulation.

"I'll take care of—pardon me, is the baby a boy or a girl?" Tom inquired.

"He's a boy," Dumbledore's gentle smile irritated him to no end.

"Fine," he said, inwardly fuming.

After all, he couldn't ruin his charismatic image.

 _There was also the fact that he had to stay within a three meters radius of the gremlin,_ his traitorous mind reminded him.

All in all, everything was fine. Perfectly fine and according to his plans.

( _Not._ )

* * *

Dumbledore arranged a separate room for them, something about not bothering their housemates. Tom was positive that he didn't want to pass the chance to keep an eye on him —the room was awfully close to the Professor's quarters, the opportunity must have been heaven sent for the former.

Tom took it as a personal challenge.

The newly christened Harry (the name was kept after many trials and errors when the child refused to respond to any of the other ones people had suggested, Tom didn't know what to make of his apparent attachment to a ridiculously common name) was an unusually quiet child. He cried only when he was angry or had soiled himself. He mostly slept or stared at him with those large, emerald eyes and thus posed no problem to attend classes with him. In fact, apart from those, he didn't speak.

At all.

Except Parseltongue.

Tom was relieved. His experience with the children at the orphanage was horrendous. They had always screamed, wailed and demanded attention, failing that, they screamed some more. He remembered seeing the haggard looks of the matron and caretakers whenever a newborn came in.

They deserved it.

One night, Tom woke up at the sounds of choked sobs. That didn't sound like something a child could make but when he got up to check, he found the brat curled up on himself—as if desperately trying to shield himself from the outside world. The small child trembled and hissed softly, the word automatically translating to "mama" in his mind.

So, the boy was having a nightmare.

Could a child that young even HAVE nightmare?

Tom shook him awake, ignoring the tear tracks on his cheeks and checked his diapers. Then he levitated one of the toys the boy had received from the professors, a stuffed lion and dropped it on him.

Tom then promptly went back to sleep.

He didn't hear any sobs for the rest of the night. But the boy started a habit of carrying the lion around with him.

* * *

So apparently, any hurt on Harry reflected on him but not vice versa.

The school nurse had estimated him to be about a little above one year of age, that annoying period where every toddler thought of themselves as explorers. Harry was no exception.

He had tried to toddle off as Tom was reading under the shades of one of the trees and had tripped and scraped his knees.

Tom had flinched minutely at the injury that had appeared on his knees as well.

Surprisingly, when Tom had cut his hand to test his theory, Harry did not have any mirroring cut.

 _It was a good thing that he had refrained from dropping the boy from the Moving Staircase,_ Tomthought grimly.

Clumsy as he was, the boy was a natural on the broomstick even at that age.

If Tom had to hear one more time from Flint about how much of a Quidditch prodigy the runt was going to be, _someone_ was going to die.

* * *

Harry detested violence.

Tom figured it out soon enough when he had finished disciplining some of the _rebellious_ members who somehow got the idea that just because Tom had a leech stuck to him, he had _weakened._ He had to nip the notion at the bud, otherwise more unnecessary work for him later.

No one was any closer to finding the origin of the mysterious boy and since Tom was bound to the boy for the foreseeable amount of time, he had to keep him safe.

So, Harry and violence.

Tom was _punishing_ the people who thought they had a chance to overthrow him when he felt a tremendous burst of magic from his ward.

Tom raised his brow as a shimmery, blue, _visible_ shield erupted in front of the pathetic vermins as the boy frowned at him.

Not one to let an opportunity pass, Tom gleefully rounded on the trembling morons. "The very person you were trying to harm just saved you —remind me again how Life Debts are repaid?"

The worthless sheep paled at the sight of his grin.

Harry came out of that incident with a little bit more value in his eyes.

* * *

Harry shared his fondness for Snakes, in fact, he absolutely loved the Basilisk who was named Padfoot promptly.

A. Basilisk. Named. _Padfoot_.

The monster of Slytherin named **Padfoot**.

The worst part? The Basilisk _liked_ it.

What irked Tom was the fact that the Basilisk favoured Harry much more than Tom and as a result, refused to hurt the students.

 _It was here to protect,_ the Basilisk hissed.

 _Salazar only meant to protect the wizard-kind,_ it said.

 _Blood didn't matter,_ it said.

 _It is the last line of defense of Hogwarts,_ it said.

Harry was enthralled. The snake promptly launched a story of the Founders and their times.

Soon, it became one of Harry's favourite haunts.

* * *

"It seems you would require a steady job to support Harry and yourself," Headmaster Dippet said as he rifled through some papers.

Tom looked suspiciously at the Headmaster and his Deputy, the latter's eyes twinkling for the first time in his presence.

Harry happily hissed at the Phoenix and tugged at his feathers. Tom's expression flattened as he saw the bird _allowed_ it.

Ah yes, his trump card, Parselmouth had long been revealed by the raven-haired menace.

His plan of releasing the monster from the Chamber of Secrets had gone down faster than he could say Nox.

It was the end of the year and for the first time in history of Hogwarts, anyone other than a Professor was allowed to stay back. Not when they hadn't budged when he had repeatedly requested ttheming his earlier years.

Now he looked at the hypocrites with wonder as they offered him a job of Teaching Assistant in Hogwarts, starting from his Seventh Year.

Tom wanted to laugh.

* * *

As he looked at the hopeful faces of the dunderhead First Years in the room, Harry being one of them (an exception, the boy was finally an official student at Hogwarts) Tom wondered.

Since when did his plan derail so drastically?

* * *

THC/The Houses Competition.

House: Slytherin

Class: DADA

Prompts: [Speech] "I'm here to study, not play a stupid game."

Standard.

Word Count. 1955 (By google docs)

Beta. charlotteredmond99


End file.
